Portal

Sometimes the boundaries
of personal space
meet in the bathroom of
our small apartment
in Los Angeles
when my wife uses
the toilet
as I shower in the morning.

She slides her panties
down her legs
and sits on the throne when
the boundaries shift and a
portal to the past
opens for a brief moment to
reveal the face of a
pensive young girl
gazing up at me
from years long gone.

(this poem appeared in the Wilderness House Literary Review volume 4/4, December 2009)