A Reflective Sheen
I'm in a small café
nursing a hot coffee.
And, between steamy sips,
I spy a curved mirror.
There, reality's a
reflection, not real.
And, like caricatures,
flaws fall into focus.
I know; it's merely glass
with a reflective sheen.
And yet, I am transfixed;
scanning strangers' faces.
My eyes get scrutinized;
when I stare at myself.
And it's fascinating;
guessing who will blink first.
Shifting shadows provide
this free entertainment.
And voyeurs stealthily
watch life slip by, unseen.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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