Mr. Pierson & I

He came to life when he was called...

...Just like a shepherd

living only for his sheep...

He came to life and then both our eyes made weirdish sparks

...I’d cracked a safe

discreetly unbeknownst to living force and place...

He rose out of his yard, like he had always been, praying

to some ripple in our daily current...

My conversation overtook him...

...the crook of his arm pressed in mine

even amidst the mutual repulsion, that we might falter on...

feeling almost too real; and each of us, characteristically, flawed

...But in fact we were fine

the linked fence that made us so, was fully kept in tact...

He examined everything that surfaced with respectable distance,

as befitting an accomplished laser surgeon...

When he faded into the herd...

...of the crowd of our exchange of words

I too, turned, to collect some sentient thought

on the short walk to the gate that adjoins me to my space

...where I locked the door

as a precaution learned from ancient folk lore...

And he rose in my eyes, again, liked he’d always been,

there on my own time, as a reflector, a guide...