Hide and Seek: 6.27.2016
Re-capturing an old view and an older story.
Hide and Seek
Fifteen minutes in the closet,
and my nose becomes accustomed
to the sudden spite of mothballs.
Now I don’t want to be found.
I think I could sit for hours,
tracing the recurrent patterns
in the vinyl garment bags
hanging overhead like coffins,
full of father’s pipesmoke-scented
autumn tweeds with elbow patches,
guessing what’s in all those boxes,
never mind my traitor playmates
counting down and sneaking home.
I prefer to play alone.