Doppelganger [poem]
I am a mirror
reflecting every
whisper which you’re most
afraid of in your self —
the feathered touch of
freedom’s fickle fibres
lusty
chime of bells.
I am a looking-glass
shattering all dreams
in which such false hopes grow
and flimflam sham schemes glow
in boastful stardust
wasteful-minded
truth-rejecting
thunder-gust.
I am a shadow
you see me coming
so you close your eyes
like a little child
who thinks she’ll not be
noticed
by the morely wise.
{running away from
your naked[ness] friendship
in Fata Morgana
your refuge you find.
Always your moving
hides the illusion of
movement
(so beauty-blind).}
I am moonbeams
modestly shineful
powdered mountaintops
rain discreetly over
secondhand hills
I wish with heartland feel
you’d thrill
to more than hidden.
I am a lantern
reason twistly tells you
how to share the light
but something old
resists and fights
like whales against
harpoons
slice through the waves.
I am a river
in which you put your toe
a death-throes testing
overflow of touch
in which it proves too much
for twice burned once-shy
drive by
dino-soars.
What is your fear?
stand still
and see your broken self
as strong and clear as
starlings in the snow
then shall we see
each other
for the first time.
.
.
© Alan Morrison, 2013
The Naked Troubadour 