Loose Lock
Yesterday I dropped by.
Knocked on your door.
No one answered.
It doesn’t matter.
All that I wanted
to tell you was
the lock of hair
that tumbled awry
and fell across
your left brow
reminded me of
my favorite aunt.
At once my heart
was haunted; slid
back through years,
all because of you,
your hair just so,
that loose lock.
Glen Sorestad is a Life Member of the League of Canadian Poets.
