The Ghost in the Mirror
I see her in the reflection of the darkened window—
the woman I would have been if the phone hadn't rung,
if the marrow of my bones hadn't felt like a debt
owed to a house that was always hungry for more.
She wears leather boots and the scent of salt air;
she speaks a language I only know in my dreams
and keeps no calendars,
only compasses.
I thought I had to be the pillar,
the steady hand on the pulse of a fading lineage.
I swore I’d cling to the porcelain tea sets
and the heavy, velvet weight of "we need you."
But the ghost of that duty is ready to dance.
Jennifer Freya Helgeson is an emerging poet based in Maryland, USA. Jennifer’s writing explores themes of memory, loss, nature, and human resilience. She holds a PhD in environmental and developmental economics. She enjoys gardening, dancing, experimenting in the kitchen, and spending meaningful time with her dog, family, and close friends.
