Your Old Shirts...... Poem by John Tansey

I have not, yet, recovered from the potent
Memories of family outings.

They peal like the anniversary
Of a loved one’s departing.

On such occasions, it is the intimacy
Of other families

That defines the negative space
of our seperation.

Living in the old neighborhood
I am haunted by ghosts.

And now that your gone, I
Wear your faults, I never forgave.

Like an old shirt of yours
Which warms me,

Still, with everything
I hated about you...