People Leave Things

by Dianne Elizabeth Casey

I carry them in the pockets of my coat

bus tickets, vinegar on chips through greaseproof,
the way my mother’s laugh caught in her throat
when she was tired

I find them at zebra crossings
carnations, teddies,
the same child’s face again and again

People leave things.
Grief stays.

I learn the city by its shrines

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[Dianne Elizabeth Casey is a writer and cross-disciplinary artist based in the North of England. Her work has been exhibited at the British Library and Stockton Globe Theatre, and appears in journals and anthologies in the UK, USA, Canada, Greece, and Iraq. She is the author of Where the Light Folds In (2025).]