Doppelgänger
She is anywhere before me
tying thread on significant twigs
or following behind
leaving trails of white pebbles
like landing lights
or paper lanterns marking a garden path
I see her slant a flicker at the edge of vision
when I’m alone a hint of shadow in company
She scratches at my window when I’m working
grins out from behind the eyes
of the woman I pass on the hill who holds a gate
and smiles me through
grey hair wiry below her hat
a collie at her heel
and in the sharp glance of a crow
rag-tagging down from a tree
I hear her mutter as she titivates memory
gathers snatches of conversation watches
the street
*Angela France writes poems, reads poems, studies poems, and runs a poetry reading series but the day job sometimes gets in the way. Her collection, Occupation is available from Ragged Raven Press. She is an editor for the ezine The Shit Creek Review and features editor of Iota.
