I touched his face
by Deenaz Coachbuilder

His youthful photograph appeared on Alexa's screen
selected from an old album.
Instinctively, I touched
   his face with my kissed fingertips.
Last night
he climbed through the wooden slats in the window
and wandered along this unfamiliar home
for it was not the one we shared as children.
Why had I shaken him,
   he wondered
gazing at me as I slept fitfully,
missing his touch from long ago.
Sensing I was but
those sibling things,
he returned,
to where all spirits dwell.

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