Holmes Appears

Holmes Appears

A Seance?

A dozen of us, readers,
are gathered in a circle
of upholstered chairs
on an autumn night
while outside the wind rustles
eucalyptus leaves.
Lamps cast circles of light
in the redwood-paneled room.
We’re aficionados
of Sherlock Holmes,
his habits, his intelligence.
We discuss Dr. Bell,
role model for Holmes’s methods
and attention to detail.

I’m suddenly aware that
In the center of the circle,
by a redwood-burl coffee table,
there’s a powerful other presence:
Holmes is among us,
no doubt standing tall,
in tweeds and deerstalker,
brought to life by us all.
He exudes the aura
of nights on the moor,
and a howling hound,
of midnight knocks at 221B,
of cement-gray drifting fog
obscuring cobblestoned Baker Street,
of challenges from Moriarty,
and the impish Irene,
footprints in mud,
messages scrawled in blood.
And edifying chats with dear Dr. Watson.