Winter Trails

Apparition

The wind is evil in the night,
a whistling, knocking, booming sprite;
and yesterday I woke to fright,
an apparition in plain sight -

shirt dancing on a hanger.

I saw it in the mirror clear
and lurched up; it was still there;
I stood; it did not disappear;
the ruffling, juddering fear -

shirt dancing on a hanger.

Outside my door a passageway,
a pull-up bar, where we array
the shirts to dry, through night and day,
winter and wet. I saw, I say

shirt dancing on a hanger.

And yet I have a rational face:
window ajar to dry the place;
under bathroom door a space
for a draught to play its ace -

shirt dancing on a hanger.

I well know resonance can do
happenstance, triple-alpha too,*
odd alignment from the blue
(the whinnies shall run thee through) -

shirt dancing on a hanger.

I put my hand upon the shirt
to still it, quell its smart;
slid it forward, nothing hurt.
"Stop it, now," I told my heart:

"Beat quietly on your hanger."

..................

*the triple-alpha process gets us carbon in nuclear fusion and is the result of a highly unlikely resonance.

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