Her son blossoming
into his dead father’s
face
shocking her
wearing his old man’s coat.
In the mirror
it’s as if
age like an evil spell
has befallen only her
& her dead husband
(dead a decade now)
hasn’t changed at all.
Their wedding photograph
smiles upon the wall.
She calls her son
by his father’s name
who, smiling, turns
& laughs:
“Who? ”
just the way
her husband would have had.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem