Shifting through photos
I feel no connection, no recognition
to the person with time and years
ahead of them, looking to the future.
Pausing at one in particular in the midst of summer,
oak leaves burning with white light,
the sun slowly fading into the horizon
behind the hill at the street’s end.
What was etched into the mind
when the image became a permanent
moment tossed into a shoe box?
What was the last thought defining that moment?
Years will pass and that young face
will undergo an outward expression
of the strife, agony, depression, and final transformation
built upon the experiences, cast from the struggle.
In time what we are in this life
circles back to the foundation,
the hands pushing up from the earth,
the roots feeding a child’s growth and imagination.
The child stares into the mirror of the adult
he is to become and both wonder why.
the adult sees a child running through
sand ahead of the waves and the look
of amazement when birds take flight
the child sees an adult lost
black eyes cold and the look
of bewilderment when he realizes
the path from here,
the only way forward,
the choices that lie ahead.
how do I get through the mirror?
the child sees a stray dog
and runs, chasing it into the water.
the adult sees a stray man
and plans to run, escape this life.
events begin to play upon the mirror
and the adult can only watch and remember.
thinking back to the one moment
the planted seed took root
the forked road vanished beneath black dirt.
only the shadow is visible in the mirror.
an outstretched hand reaches for
the other as lights fade away
and the mirror shatters.