Tuesday, August 14, 2012



White seems to be an absence
of color, but really, it is all colors.

The people behind the cafe window
live at the back of the mirror it becomes,

for you, as you smooth your hair
and for them, you are a moving image

to watch, as a cat stares at shapes.
The water-splotched MISSING poster

for Misty, a white and grey cat,
is every fluffy cat you have loved,

any small animal you have lost
or touched. Waiting on the corner

for the light to change, you are on
every corner, everyone who has ever

looked at you is looking at you now.
This coffee is all coffee, your pockets,

all pockets, these clouds, all clouds.
You think of the family without Misty,

how the parents see their own anguish
when the little boy cries because

he left the screen door open, but in
your mind, they are played by

your family, you. Your own lips
pressed together, please, please,

I want her to come home, let her
be here when I wake up tomorrow.


  1. I like this - how things become smaller when then are all things, but larger when they are something specific.

  2. mmm love the way italics are creeping into your words lady :) Also love the mirror/window ponder.... very true :)


  3. I've always wanted to write a poem around this idea: that the essence of a red rose is anything but red, because it absorbs all colors (and those wavelengths of light are what thus make up its essence) and we only see it as red because it reflects red, it rejects red, red is what is absorbed in our eyes - we see what the rose is not.

    And here you have it, such a wonderful poem, the essence of white and what is missing and there, what is a reflection and reality. Physics distilled into poetry and emotion. So wonderful.


The Storialist. All rights reserved. © Maira Gall.