Dusty Reflections

I can’t pry her from the mirror.

She sits and stares

into stained glass 

spotted with age --

entranced by the residue 

of the past.

I coax her to her feet

and we explore 

the ancient Casa Monica.

Its renovation restores

its elegance 

but still remains

in dust that buries us

The paintings stare,

the floors creak,

shadows paint the walls,

and she disappears again.

I find her glued to the mirror

and I ask her,

“Shannon, why?”

“They’re talking to me,

don’t you see them?”

Late into the night,

a sudden grasp

tears me from the room

and sends me

tumbling to the floor.

Shannon stares down

at me.  

Black holes sit in a rotting face

void of color.

I look up to find

many demons deformed 

just like her.

The hall is ablaze

with hazing light.

The fire engulfs everything,

but destroys nothing.

She imprisons me

in the mirror and the fire

is not a reflection anymore.

I’m burning, smoldering,

withering away,

until my embers

are just another aging spot

on that ancient mirror.

Author's Note

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. Let me know what you think :)

If you want a better image of what's going on, look up pictures of the Casa Monica in St. Augustine, FL. I used to attend college there. If not, just leave it to your own imagination :)

Reviews

[ASHIDASH]

The imagery is really strong. You really did hold my attention through this poem and it carries an eerie touch of fear. Love this one

[Harmartia Poe]

thank you so much :)

[Sophy Freebirds]

It gave me goosebumps... i guess i won't look at my reflection for some days in fear of being caged inside the mirror.I like your description they create a vivid picture. :) Deliciously haunting.

~Sophy

[Harmartia Poe]

Thanks girl :)

[A. Amos]

I enjoy your poetic story, interesting and enjoyable read...

[Harmartia Poe]

Thanks so much :)

[A. Amos]

You're most welcome dear