First Place Winner: Michelle Retterath   Memory   Look at that dusk speck, how it twirls. It will land soon among its brothers and sisters all over the furniture And the clothes and in the water glass whose contents are long evaporated.   I can almost see her in the slants of sunlight that pour through the doorway at that Certain time of day when it hurts the most. Her glasses sit on the east window ledge And in the morning you can pretend that they're warm From her face.   A string of objects to choke me with the missing of her - a million sounds were all set to Fall silent. I often awake to that tea-stained Saturday when bookmarks fluttered to the floor and knives covered themselves with butter and crumbs, A memory made when my back was turned.   But what have I become without her if a dust speck dances more often than I do, or Spends more rime in the light, little face upturned? Back to July/04 Winners Home