i noticed today
as i walked the hill
(praying to the usual suspects)
the notion that ghosts within me were
witnessing the world
(my world)
behind my eyes
behind the mask:
brown wrinkled grandparents,
dead college friends,
a sister-in-law,
my old painting teacher
those who mattered
(and still do)
in the maintenance of my spirit,
in the tone of my eyes
they coalesced
(these vestiges)
into the numinous
then i had my eyes
alone again.