10-09-2025, 11:43 PM
A Double's Thread
Her glasses are as much
mine as death.
I can see the eyes
she doesn't.
A continuity of moments
loves her.
And now, in early fall,
I see the eyes
that can't see her
and know they can.
On the way to a stone
house down the lane to meet
the UPS truck that's
passing,
I see a white mushroom and make
connections. She's not here.
Her glasses are as much
mine as death.
I can see the eyes
she doesn't.
A continuity of moments
loves her.
And now, in early fall,
I see the eyes
that can't see her
and know they can.
On the way to a stone
house down the lane to meet
the UPS truck that's
passing,
I see a white mushroom and make
connections. She's not here.