Firefly Healing, LLC

Projections

Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

 

Looking through my reflection in the bus window

trees falling away as the highway catches up

one stump in a tall grove draws my reverie.

Eventually I am arrived, uprooted from musings on whether my side table

because stranger things have happened

could be made from that displaced tree and then

aren’t we all connected in a vast network of unseen coincidences,

lonely me and lonely tree.

 

Standing in a dark tomb in Egypt

they show us how mirrors bring sunlight into the tunnels.

Itchy sweaty coconut sunblock cipro college class trip becomes suddenly

the newest audience.

It cannot be thousands of years since

my feet where the artist stood

my body memory projecting the brushstrokes

and I am still

with the hieroglyphics

as if they were my own.

 

Taking the pearl earrings from her shaky hands

because no one else wants them

and she will be dying in a couple of days

white hair, white sheets, white pearls.

If I mention the snow outside

I can bring in the brown and gray of the parking lot slush.

There I sat, with in-laws soon to be out once the papers are signed

her own daughter hasn’t talked to her in 40 years of widowhood

granddaughter either

and we both know these fake pearl earrings

are all I’ll have to remember her by but

I will.

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Comments on: "Projections" (2)

  1. Very, very pleased to meet you, Lurana

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