So Like Her (Poetry)

It was poor light
and the figure was a long way off
crossing the street and dodging
between the rows of parked cars

It wasn’t her
of course it couldn’t be
because she was dead, wasn’t she?
But even so ...
the breath was knocked
clean out of me

It was so like her
that walk — her silhouette
the way she hurried
then the dash across the road
like a film clip playing over
it could have been her double

Some impulse made me follow
illogical, I know
for it wasn’t her — how could it be?
The figure drew me nonetheless
I pursued the ghost of her

The wind was catching at some leaves
piled brown and crisp in the gutter
the sound just like a whisper
I shivered and increased my pace
as she turned a corner — lost to view
by the time I get there
the street is empty of all but shadows for
as explained
the lighting’s very poor