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Sonnet 3

 

In water and near empty glasses I saw a face, a distorted I,

like how I’d pass one hand through another and call myself Jedi.

Once I poured myself fresh water and the face remained, bobbing there,

reflecting someone else, beguiling, a Christening pool, unmarred,

and when it was gone I wondered where it was, where it lived,

not just drained away, not just let go, not often hushed.

Or how I could levitate too and no one knew that skill,

but it’s all in the past now, it’s all uncared for and forgotten.

And I’ve lost my way and my mother won’t help me.

Last April I was worried about stalkers, about a confederate girl I knew once,

how a beard was watching her through windows, how a beard followed her.

A fold, a change, a shift, and when they shouted time I was a bell ringing.

But you’ll remember beyond my memory, and my memory is so frail,

but I will lack reflection and I will say things like thine and follow.

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About michaeleganpoetry

Liverpool based poet and editor. I have had four pamphlets of poetry published, most recently After Stikklestad (Knives, Forks and Spoons Press, 2010). Penned in the Margins published my first collection, Steak & Stations, in 2010.

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