Ghost songs

Samantha Cramer

Cities hoard their dead,
layers of clay and
memory, paving stones and
fossilized teeth
Streets echo their winding
lament as feet trace dervish
circles; evade the wail
of sirens, the apathetic
murmur of caged harbor sea.
Stray into alleys
of ghost songs.
Heels touch bone,
lungs breathe air exhaled
by millions.

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