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Home » Poetry » Issue 7 » A ghost of liturgical hymns

A ghost of liturgical hymns

I smell him sometimes…
by the fruit and veg aisle in a supermarket,
when I’m stuck in rush hour traffic,
when I pass the suitcase with his things still
parked under the staircase waiting
for my courage to turn up.
And sometimes,
a ghost of liturgical hymns
loops in my mind, their lyrics lost
to the same corpse
that stole my happy place.