Living rooms glow like beacons
as we pass through the dark outside,
the barest glimpses of lives, lives, lives.
And suddenly, I’m filled with warmth—
I want to go, I want to enter each one
like a lonely ghost, filled with fondness
for these strangers and their places,
televisions tuned to who-knows-what,
walls with shelves, pictures, photos,
souvenirs or Goodwill knick-knacks,
couches chosen for comfort or for looks,
all passing too quickly to truly see.
Love is easy at this distance—
for ghosts, for the dead
who gather outside our windows,
where even, on the coldest night,
their breath leaves no trace.

Anneliese received a BA in creative writing from Bard College at Simon’s Rock and an MFA in poetry from the University of Maryland. She’s a former Peace Corps volunteer who worked in the town of Petropavlovsk, Kazakhstan, and she’s currently working as a librarian in Sheboygan.