Cylindrical Mirrors
Crossing the raven waters of a deep fiord
he saw a light and fell into a dream, woke
up on a strand that had bleached sand, sun
and turquoise sea, knew he had been given
a second chance.
He looked in the mirror had not aged at
all and wondered if there was a painting
hidden in some dusty attic, he smiled just
kidding, but his image didn’t smile there
was too much to remember.
Last year he went back to the small town
where the fiord arm ends in five rivers,
people there had never heard of him, it was
so long ago, no memory of him existed in
anyone’s mind, as he had never existed.
The future had arrived yesterday, nothing
for him to worry about, as clear, warm light
cascaded through the window; he lived in
a handcrafted kaleidoscope, an optical toy,
yet he was free of false illusions.
