Now you see me, now you don’t

Mirrors hang here and there along the room
images trapped in reflections of the past.
Pictures hang limply off hooks in the walls
of portraits where people were placed just right
pretending to show the memories by a single frozen smile.

It is quiet here. In this room. In this house.
It is empty and filled to the brim of all sorts of things.
But that is all there is here. Things. Things with faces and no names.
Or maybe they’re names with faces and no soul.
Isn’t that what memories are?

Find me. Pick me out among these cluttered things.
THERE!
I’m just simply in mirrors hanging from the walls on rusted hooks.
And backward frames with frayed edges
Embracing life-like coloring pages with wrinkled corners.

Now you see me, now you don’t.
Where in the world could you see a thing,
Make it beautiful, capture it in your foggy lens,
And stack it on the plastered walls of a quiet room,
In an empty house, where you no longer see me?

You said you told me.
You said you found me.
You said you saw me…
How could you when you could not see
Past your own reflection?

copywrite 2012 Aiden Delaney