Crossroads Staircase

that glass cross atop the mirror?     you ask.
there’s a story . . . given me by a glass
artisan at a meeting,     convention
or rally,     call it what you will,     of folks
prone to meetings if you take my meaning.

I recall only his bright eyes and genuine
disposition,     his eagerness toward earnest
and devotion to the steps   —   his gift an
act of the twelfth as I lingered somewhere
near the fifth,   soul as hollow as hungover

eyes   .  .  .   my road to sobriety one of
potholes and suffering infrastructure   .  .  .
the cross is to remind of higher powers;
mirror to remind:   lonely is not alone.

David M Pitchford
2 September 2012


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