In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Bart Edelman 33 The Dead Rise Twice In the cool grip of night— When the dead rise twice— I pay a visit to you, Wearing a black rose Pinned to my skinny lapel. I have come for nothing More than a hint of recognition; A casual glance will do, A furtive stare, far better. I know you wonder, of course, If this truly must be me Returning to haunt you Or just some gaunt stranger Hired for such an occasion. And I don’t necessarily have A wishbone to pick with you, Words which were left unsaid, Love that dissolved between us. Tonight I only bring you The measure of a man departed, A figure who slowly emerges From the ground where you walk, So that you might glimpse The length of my shadow Once more before you sleep. ...

Share