Today's poem is by Fiona Sze-Lorrain

Invisible Eye

chalks the skeletons
of houses. I pry
doors of dusk.
Every tree helps me
pick my way
home. I try
counting them
with my footsteps,
but the moment I ride
over their roots,
they twine into dangling
heads of hair.
The street is a finger
to the maiden in the moon
and her hare. Finally,
a fable turns real.
watches me. A key
from his hand.
Distance between us
is a mouth.
I dare not turn
back, but stand
and wait — his shadow
is hiding in a cave.

Copyright © 2010 Fiona Sze-Lorrain All rights reserved
from Water the Moon
Marick Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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