Faces (Poetry)

A quiet haunting — almost comforting
these look-alikes that make me take
a second look —
and yet it is a trick that I uncover fast —
a moment’s mismatch
when the heart leaps to a conclusion —
fooled by familiarity —
a shared shape or gesture
a colour borrowed from the past
that chimes with hope — friendship — love...

Daylight ghosts — they walk among the living
unobtrusive — glimpsed at random in some crowd —
the geography of flesh so very human
that brief impression kindles recognition
before it arcs away —
the fading shooting star.

I sometimes meet the eye of someone in the street —
the stranger whose pale raincoat, belted in
has caught me on the verge of calling out
mistakenly —
the error written on my face —
words awkward on the edge of greeting —
it is as if they know, somehow — have empathy
and understand the way it comes about —
the unconscious search beneath even the most casual
glance —
some comparison aways sought
with that perpetual photofit pocketed by memory
and the sifting through of similarities —
ticking off the references —
all done in seconds...
while the senses lurch — unsure
who the eyes have seen
in that passing giddy stream
of faces.