Doppelgangers Poem by Sheena Blackhall

The crowded street of shoppers
Moves forward

And there you almost are
Or rather, an arm like yours
Rises to greet, not me.

On a bus journey
I recognise the back of your head
My heart lurches, sticks in my throat
You turn with a stranger's face

Such cruel recurrent
Flashes of mis-recognition!
Venomous, they poison an entire day

So strong, the memory of you
The umbilical cord holds true

The crowd moves jostling forward
And for a while I stand
A rock marooned in grief