A Wall Of Heads (Poetry)

I stare at them and they stare back
and though unnamed, I feel each one
has character — a spirit caught
behind those eyes — the thoughtful sum
of every human trait and whim
translated into making him.

Introspective, enigmatic
expressions offer nonetheless
subtle insight into cultures
open in their artfulness.
They speak a language all unheard
their stories coded — word for word.

Carved or painted — rendered manlike
passive in their final pose
they hang in groups like mismatched trophies
placed at random — and who knows
if there is conflict. In some way
do they disrupt the room’s Feng Shui?

They look at me and I look back
and wonder should I rearrange
their hierachy — would that help
to ease the flow? The air feels strange
around these disembodied heads
as vague unease — mere fancy — spreads ...