Saturday, October 15, 2011

as through a glass darkly

I step hesitantly through
   this strange house
the air punctuated with shafts of light
    changes from dim to clear then back again

The hardwood floor stained
   with generations of shadows
darkens away from well worn paths
   towards walls notched with doorways

In one, a beveled mirror framed
   in dark scrolled wood
My father, long dead,
   peers back at me
his arms held out
   as if to beckon
   as if to embrace

on my neck, one by one, each hair subsides
   and slowly, oh so slowly
I lower my arms and smile
   and he smiles back at me.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Haiku 4

in the mirror
the shadow of branches
on the wall behind me