You stand in the gray air, <br />your face a mirror reflecting <br />the dark shadows of trees. <br />Clouds drift in the brown water <br />of your eyes. A smirk squirms <br />in the corner of your mouth. <br />Behind you, a yellow blouse <br />shivers on a clothesline. A crow <br />hovers in the distance— a black flower <br />blooming against the cracked sky. <br />A red ribbon flutters in your hair. <br />Yet you wave carelessly <br />as if you don’t feel the wind <br />like a hand on your shoulder, <br />as if you don’t notice the rain-filled gutter <br />overflowing behind you, <br />the trickle of water like a wristwatch <br />ticking in your ear. I can hear a cell phone <br />ringing, an ambulance. My eyes blink <br />in the black waves of your hair. <br />A car bumper flickers in your blue dress. <br />It’s Thursday, May 16th. <br />Tomorrow they will find your pale body <br />deep in the brown hush of water. <br /> <br /> <br />-from Texas Review<br /><br />Chris Tusa<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/photograph-of-a-missing-girl-in-a-barbershop-win/
