SurVision Magazine

You Were Walking


You were walking
homesick with your ripening mirror, almost red
dream polished and unfolding face
to remind all the dark gardeners of the world
that the leaves are stranded
left to beauty's abrading beneath the birds.

Your mother stopped here
only to become a permanent footprint
and her charcoal arm bright in the tree, deep
into a theory of the accountable kiss
left upon the rose of blue milk ice.

You were walking
along the eroded roof of lightning
the marble paraders mouthed their shadows
burned into the white enclosure
where your mirror turns to feed
upon the sanctuary of moons
& to drum out
snow's handsome fire fox
to ascend stair after stair
to the twinkling lamprey who crosses your path
to reach the other's shape, once captured
upon a sea of finishing school diamonds
and went about their slivers of business

and about yours also.
Each tiger is a mirror.







Dale Houstman was born in King's Lynn, Norfolk, England. He moved to the USA in 1956 and in 1972 settled in Minneapolis, Minnesota, where he still lives. His poetry appeared in Caliban, The Poetry Bus,  and Peculiar Mormyrid. His collection titled A Dangerous Vacation, was published by Caliban Press Bookshelf in 2017.