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May 13, 2016

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Poetry
12 JUne 2007 A silver sky ripe for the mirror. you can not see yourself in this mirror you can only see others moreover, you can only see what others choose to expose. Their houses, their boats, their sea-doos. Birds skimming low over the water could like as not see them selves if they were to look down as they skim low over the water but they never do. Rather they allow their reflections to chase them quick and sharp over the still, glistening waters while the bird's mind remains ever fixed on food, or other birds, or escaping those damn noisy humans. A dense forest impenetrable as a gaze.

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