Pareidolia

Everywhere I look

Faces look back at me

Kittens in the water droplets

The smiling waif in the fold of the curtain

Elves from the vines embracing the corner of the house

The naiad among the pebbles on the bed of the creek watches the sky

There is a name for this, I am told.

We are creatures who see patterns where there are none.

We see hunters in the stars and sleeping ladies in the hills.

When we look harder, the angry Wookie staring out of the edge of the wall

dissolves

into

cracked plaster and two vacant nail holes.

I feel their eyes on me

I wait for them to speak