I lifted a rock

I lifted a rock

to see what lay

beneath, hidden

from the light

and air, to see

what crawled

or burrowed there

or what seeped

from the sides

what lay beneath:

a mirror, what Alice

fell through

Photograph by Maliz Ong via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

El Mirage

We streamed into the desert

following a pillar of cloud,

sand cloud, by day, and

a pillar of fire, back fire,

by night, hoping to catch

a glimpse of youth forgotten

when all the world seemed

about fast women and

faster cars. We convinced

ourselves it was no mirage

reflecting an empty landscape

back upon us, empty except

for a pillar of cloud by day.

Over at Tweetspeak Poetry, Seth Haines has a poetry prompt this week – about mirages and mirrors.

Photograph by Michael Miloserdoff via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission. The photograph was taken in El Mirage, California – a dry lake bed. If you click on the photo, you will the name of the sponsor of this particular car.

Reflection in polished glass

The child in the mirror spoke

back to me, responding

to a question I’d forgotten;

he didn’t remember the answer

to the question I’d forgotten

and so we stared into the mirror,

realizing each victory contains

the seeds of defeat, and each defeat

contains the seeds of hope.

I looked to the sun, risen,

and understand the contradiction.

Over at dVerse Poets, the Saturday poetry prompt is about twins, or doubles, or two of a kind. Take a look and see what others write.

Photograph by George Hodan via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.