Wednesday, February 1, 2017


She showed herself to him.
She rose … she drifted into the clear
Light of his gaze
From the swampy depths,
From beneath the lily pads and pond weed.
Shining anew with his regard,
She revealed herself.

He began talking,
Telling her his story
And in her listening eyes
He became obsessed, again, with his own reflection.

He didn’t see her,
All he saw was a cool, cultivated, confabulation of himself,
A man made in the eyes of a woman.

When he finished his great construction
And no longer saw his reflection in her eyes
She sank
Beneath the lily pads and pond weed.

He didn’t follow for he had not seen her.
He waited, patient.
He waited for the next siren
To rise out of the depths,
So that he could see his image again.
His poems, songs and text messages
In her mirror'd,
listening eyes.

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