Visceral Tangibility

So I guess I’ll continue to give the poetry a shot. I’ve honestly been too preoccupied to write much of anything lately, which is in no way a suitable excuse but there ya go. I wrote this poem short after my uncle, who was sort of a father figure for me, passed away a couple of years ago. I tried experimenting with different poem structures. My favorite thing about this one was that it could be read three different ways. Just for some context, my uncle was an award-winning photographer and he sort of helped keep our family together, so his death really shook things up for us. I left this poem untitled.

I hope you like it and, as always, I appreciate any feedback!

My home,
now in shambles.
Filled with
a yesterday and
teary faces.
Unmade
unimpressed
depressed
words reverb.
Oh uncle,
rests with us.
Not too long ago.
His empty room,
ghostly memories and
ephemeral whispers,
His bed,
his jackets,
his camera,
gone.
In our heads,
the photographer,
no more.
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