My Twin Stranger Doppelganger

My Twin Stranger Doppelganger

Are you my twin stranger? She dimples in anticipation

I gaze absently. She is my duplicate – at head anyway

Could this be my doppelganger?

The fleeting glance deceives. I waver

Drivers on the N15 move North South fumes trailing

Crossing depleted borders posts not yet Brexit revived.

In reminiscent travel of history’s antiquities

Or border towns’ strolling females

Beyond the streaming windowpane eyes scrutinise

In misty drizzle on the High Pad – Irish speak

For footpath raised high above the boulevard

A woman, Lifford bound on the A38

My stranger twin touches me. Bedecks me with a smile

Lifford and Strabane

Divided by McAlpine’s 115 Meter Span. I tread it habitually

She breathes emphatically. My legs thank you.

The miles you’ve saved me in summer sun and winter storms

Like wind softly whooshing on the River Finn

She emits a little whimsical sound

The bemused look on faces when they see–

Oh I thought you were she… they say, hesitantly

I smile. Remove my outer skin. Slide in beside them

Accept graciously the lift they offered you, not me

I’m her doppelgänger I affirm

It’s a great conversation starter.

I hear your name and feel impelled

To meet this Gemma Hill

This stranger twin of mine – Is she real?

Or is she a figment of drivers’ imagination?