Gold

sitting in a gold shop

talking about old acquaintances

of people long since passed away

of names forgotten

with glassy looks in our eyes

of the times since past

for an instant there is a strange silence

and stillness over everything

outside a baby is crying

and shoppers walking by in the hot sun

no one notices the spirits that hide in the sharp shadows

who fill up all the empty spaces between the shop houses

and who glide down the streets between the cars

watching us from the infinite corners

in all the wall mirrors of the shop

we are not alone with our audience

we make a joke and smile

the gold seller makes me a special deal

on a small gold bracelet for my daughter

the door closes once again

spirits rushing back inside

a few remaining

stranded outside

by Hugh M. Lewis