Noah Stetzer offers an intense, imagistic meditation on transformation.
You Have Your Father’s Face
The dark comes down faster now—you can see
the dim creep into the afternoon’s hot
blue sky maybe a warm hour sooner
it seems than all the humid weeks before
—so that outside the big window twilight
has come to make the lawn an almost blue
instead of green color, and the trees’ bark
glows bright like its trunk is full of cool light
inside and now the window plays double
duty looking out but too reflecting
back inside what’s inside the lamp hovers
nestled inside the tree in the dark glass
where there I’ve found myself sitting I think;
it’s hard to know whether I look the same.
Read Noah Stetzer’s harrowing poem about HIV infection here.
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Photo by John Perivolaris /Flickr