Absolute Vacuum Poem by Patti Masterman

There are three people who live with us now
Who no longer move their molecules around the world
No longer expel carbon dioxide into space
The only real movement they're capable of
Perhaps a modest vibration of their dust
In response to large objects passing over the bridge
Two of them were once mates, and the other
Remains solitary, in that other dimension.

There are three people now staying here
Who never seek release from their small, quiet tombs
We offered fancy Grecian urns; they paid no heed
It wasn't necessary, we inferred; too ostentatious
They don't celebrate high, holy days any more
Birthdays and anniversaries circumnavigate, unobserved
At least, so it would appear from the outside
We try not to disturb them more than we must.

Three people once tarried within our universe
Peopled our lives with the magnitude of their existence
Childhoods were kindled by their mere act of breathing
The presence of memories their only haunting
The light ashes of their bones are crumpled shrouds
Left in the wake of predictable casualty
And there's a thickened atmosphere you can nearly touch
In the absolute vacuum of where they once were.