Where Are You?

Where Are You? (By Cat Matchuk)

round glass ball reflecting man standing
Photo by Jeremy Perkins.

Some poetry are stories,
There’s no hidden meaning, the author speaks plainly, grabs you by the hand and takes you on a journey.

For a minute you’re not where you were.
You’re exactly where they want you to be instead.

On a train, in a coffee shop, wherever they are
so are you.

In other poems you have to search,
hushed voices,
baked bread,
glow of the streetlights.

You could be anywhere.
Maybe the poet doesn’t even know and wants you to fill in the gaps.

So here we are again,

The ground vibrates,
cold glass shards against the window,
grey light fills the room.

Where are you?