Issue #10

Le Clauzel


Years ago father stepped

over the threshold

of an empty home

I've always wondered how it happened

his return to a barren barn

a childless bed

and the knight petrified

on a chess-set waiting

it moved for love

and his old clothes clinging

in imagery of recurrence

where did it go wrong?

mother turning away

snapping strings from old stone

swapping land for water


Years later I stepped

over the threshold

of our old home

after crossing seas of vernacular

and speaking in tongues

I found a past in selenium -

an always autumn

with sunlight in my palms

I chose to forget.

There were so many goodbyes

even then, we'd look out

from trains of seclusion

watching images in zoetrope

revolving, always retracing

we were here



Years later mother stepped

over the threshold

to our old home

and collapsed, her back done in.

I watched through binoculars, contrariwise,

our view, family sized.

Colombine Neal

© 2014