Six leaves on one sad plant.
Zurich shouldn’t look like this,
a fragment of German caught,
reversed in a mirror, steel doors
opening into a white space
that kills the grimmest hunger.
Is this merely a photograph
we inhabit, or don’t? The walls
are so finely grained a child
might mistake them for icing,
but the angle of the mirror
suggests a more sinister motive.
How did we get here? Air
or rail, bus or car? Dimensions
ignore us. The plant, thriving
despite its forlorn posture,
accepts our presence simply,
waving in the various light.
William Doreski's work has appeared in various e and print journals and in several collections, most recently The Suburbs of Atlantis (AA Press, 2013).