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Comments about Camille Greider
I’m walking home
past the elm where we laughed for hours
into a house that doesn't feel like mine
the smell has changed, but I've adjusted
i have a better view now, from the room we shared
i've rearranged, the dust was awful
But it didn’t get in my eyes
i still visit
My offerings to the dead devour the scent;
Of elms we passed
dying once we’re at the gate
We were always dying
you and me.