When body drops

Louise Gluck’s father always had thought death ,away from the sensual things .So did not lose much when body dropped. She ,who was his mirror image ,thought so too. So that when one dropped , one dropped nothing.

A little bird of the night sits on my clothesline ,disappearing in the first sun. He sits on the wire with a sock hanging from a washing. The other sock drops like a wet body .

I have always imagined my father in his mirror image.Because I have never seen him in body. Consequently he did not die much.To me he has always remained a mere figment ,who never existed in his socks.