after R.E. Meatyard

The youngest sits in corner
shadows at the El formed
by top-of-stairs enclosure
and wall with legs crossed,
hands folded in his lap,
obediently obeying
admonitions to remain still,
to be as quiet as the model
he now is.

The second boy stands in
the open doorway, is a
blur of arms waving, a blind
of brightness rushing in
to the shadows inside.

Only the eldest,
clearly seen, reflected in
a removed-from-wall-tarnished
mirror leaning against a low
interior wall, his youthful face
flaking, rapidly growing old as
a resident familiar,
the image of a ghost.