The Mirror

A Poem by Pat St. Pierre.

Looking in the mirror,
I see my mother beside me.
Her countenance clear,
But her blue green eyes hold secrets.
Has a fortuneteller brought her here?
Is it her troubled spirit?
She’s trying to tell me—
Doors should stay open,
Rainbows give hope,
Depression leads to misery.
She wants me to see goodness,
The happiness around me,
Contentment in love.
She says listen, you must.
If you don’t, then you’ll be
With me in the mirror.

Peace with the Evening Sun

A Poem by Pat St.Pierre.

(Editor’s note:

Footprints on evening sand,
the wash of shell and seaweed.
a lingering scent of salt.                   

Paths vanish from the beach,             
white morning sand alters,
other deep tracks appear.