Absolute Vacuum

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.