In memory of Renata Horowitz

My darling’s photographs
were reflections of her inner eye.
I look at them, and I see what she saw:
a fly on a window, a corner of a frame,
two riders on horseback,
a bunch of ripe blackberries.

What did she see just before
she lost control of the car?
It was twilight, when apparitions appear.
Her friend who survived
said she was pointing at something.
Then memory stops.

What’s essential is invisible
to the eye. But what shall I do
now there’s nothing solid
left for me to hold onto?

When one thing shifts, all else moves
like clear water when you step into it.
Now everything goes against the current.

In the crosswinds, I hear her saying,
When you get lost, you have a chance
to find out who you are.

Poet, fiction writer, journalist, and critic Anne Whitehouse’s books include poetry collections The Surveyor’s Hand (Compton Press), Blessings and Curses (Poetic Matrix Press), One Sunday Morning (Finishing Line Press), The Refrain (Dos Madres Press), Bear in Mind (Finishing Line Press), Meteor Shower (Dos Madres Press) and Fall Love (novel). She is a graduate of Harvard College and Columbia University. She lives in New York City. www.annewhitehouse.com