TIGER’S MASK By MICHAEL MINASSIAN

 

In the old photo, I am standing

in the doorway, between

the kitchen and my bedroom.

The print is slightly out of focus,

but it is plainly me,

wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt.

On my face is a yellow and black mask

with cut-outs for eyes;

I gaze out from somewhere far away.

At least, that is how I remember it – 

placing the camera on a tripod

then setting the self-timer.

Feeling the sheer pleasure

of slipping on the mask— 

the cool touch against my cheek.

The tiger’s skin, the breath of the jungle

the sense of waiting, hunger;

the camera’s click.

The motion of the opening door;

the look of surprise, 

then fear on your face.

MICHAEL MINASSIAN is a Contributing Editor for Verse-Virtual, an online poetry journal. His chapbooks include poetry: The Arboriculturist and photography: Around the Bend. His poetry collections Time is Not a River, Morning Calm, and A Matter of Timing are all available on Amazon. For more information: https://michaelminassian.com