Just a Child
I walk through a hallway, complete dark.
I am only aware that I’m in a boxy maze.
I wander through the rooms, guided by a pulling spirit,
Room after room down long corridors
With no light but a flickering candle that rests at the end of the wall and moves as I do.
I am lost. I curse it all. I sink down.
Until finally there is a room unlike others,
Finally a window. Moonlight.
Grass, long and wavy like on my childhood estate. Doesn’t grow here.
A child standing in that grass.
The figure, just a small shadow built of wisps, rises to the window.
I back up. I am afraid of the child’s face.
The child does not care for my fear.
The figure steps toward me. I run. Can’t run.
The room is suddenly illuminated,
Like stage lights rising.
Her face pierces me at last;
And she opens her mouth,
“Remember me, mom?”
I wake with a screech. Blessedly I am alone in my darkness,
A dark cracked by the streetlight so close.
“Remember me?”
