The Wicker Mirror

Fan blades mimic the sound 

of a single engine piston

in the far distance— 

being a nuisance 

as the night slowly crawls 

through the hours after the day 

The ebony sky always

chases after her unrequited love 

The bright morning—

He likes to lead her on 

being a nuisance 

while winds travel through 

becoming an odd visitor 

This use to be my old room 

now it’s unfamiliar— 

Except for the wicker desk 

and the matching mirror 

If I look into it long enough 

the ghost of my past reappears 

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This poem is currently published in The 2024 Maryland Bards Poetry Review. © Kelly Michelle Thomas. All rights reserved.