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Silver shards of fractured light Bleed from a street lamp And mingle with the garish intrusions Of neon annoyance. These muddled attempts at illumination Are reflected back to me From the murky surfaces Of pothole puddles. Oncoming headlights Catch me in the act of being. I am frozen in their glare, And they glare accusingly. They demand to know: What is my purpose at this hour? In weather like this? Getting no response They pass me as if They hadn’t noticed me at all. The steps I have taken To take me in search of myself Have brought me to this corner diner (I won’t bother count my change As I know already it is not enough). The rain that rolls down in window-waves On the glass through which I look Gives the patrons an alien appearance- They seem to alter shape at will As their outlines become blurry and indistinct. Features and motions are distorted, Grotesque – An arm seems broken, A man has three hands, a lady smiles and frowns at the same time. I wonder if that is how they see each other. I wonder also if they, Looking out, See me in the same way. Focusing now on the near reflection My question is soon answered – I see myself An am also blurry and indistinct. Turning down the street I start my journey anew.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

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