My friend looked at a photo of herself standing near a puddle, she asked herself a question…“Did you ever wonder if the person in the puddle is real, and you’re just a reflection of her?”
And this was my answer…
The image in the puddle,
a reflection of the world
A mirror of what is,
not what might be preferred.
A true representation,
as seen on the other side Continue reading
Do not look
for truth
in the mirror
For there
it cannot be found
In it
is a
lifeless visage Continue reading
The faint reflection in the window
Mocks my solemn stare
Its diminished further by the sun’s
Sharp golden white glare
The bright blue sky beyond the pane
revels in my misery Continue reading
Leaves upon the asphalt
green, gold and brown,
fallen from the treetops
scattered on the ground,
Yet I see some in a line
arrayed in a row
arranged by a human,
or part of nature’s show?
Of Love and Longing 