Face to Face
by Amadea N Katz
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Not rated by the Author.
Print Save Become a Fan
I wrote this when I was 9 for my mom's friend Karen, who lost her daughter in a car accident (Genny was 20).
Like a journey to a graceful shack
you walk on a crooked roof
dark as a black pit and finally white,
carefully, tip-toe, tip-toe.
All white, a body floating toward you
with a glad expression.
It has to be a dream, you think.
In a flash, no more white, no more body.
Loneliness, like a mirror in the distance,
staring directly at you.
You look down at your pale white hands.
You're sinking far down. That's not me.
A widening smile spreads
across the girl's face.
And then, way up in the sky, too far up,
into space --choking, not breathing.
You open your eyes, and the rooftop --
the old crooked rooftop.
Are you yourself again?
No, still a ghost.
A pleasant smile on the girl,
who switched places with you.
You grip her hand tightly
and she groans,
electricity between your hands.
You look down at your
flesh-colored hands with relief.
White lights flash in front of you.
I've seen that girl before, you say.
A cry like a voice
of a child you remember.
You look into the mirror and
see a familiar face smiling back at you.
Want to review or comment on this
Click here to login!
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!
|Reviewed by Gene Williamson
|Beautifully written tribute to Karen. You certainly were
a mature nine. -gene
|Reviewed by Jael Fields (Reader)
|Your insight and grasp of language are proof that a new star has risen in the sky of Author's Den. Shine brightly, young lady.|
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|I find this spiritually meaningful and emtotively compelling, Amadea. Thank you for sharing and welcome to AD. Love, peace, and best wishes,