Wednesdays on One Poem Only are a double feature: one poem here on the podcast, and one more by the same poet shared on Instagram.

Memory weighs more than bone

Charlotte Dawn

You can’t see the ghosts

until you’re almost one—

until your breath learns how to hesitate,

until mirrors stop recognising you

without thinking.

They gather in the quiet margins:

hospital hallways at 3 a.m.,

old songs that bruise instead of heal,

names you don’t say aloud anymore.

The living pass straight through them,

laughing, late for something,

arms full of tomorrow.

They don’t feel the cold.

But you—

you slow down enough to notice

how memory weighs more than bone,

how absence has a voice,

how survival leaves footprints backward.

That’s when the ghosts turn their faces.

Not to haunt you—

but to ask if you remember

who you were

before you learned how to disappear.

More from Charlotte Dawn ↓

1. @wordsbycharlottedawn on Instagram
2. @charlottedawn1 on Substack

Watch the Second Poem

You can watch and listen to Hash browns by Charlotte Dawn as part of our Wednesday double feature on Instagram at @rembrandts.cure.

Support + Stay Connected to OPO

If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.

Two poems. One poet. Let the words keep moving.