Lines of Sight are Reversible

Photo by Omar Willey. CC-BY.




Expect when facing mirrors
glimpses at infinities, sureness

of self, in this breathing state, instead, discover
bowed lattices shuttering future or past or whatever

looking glass holds and shows with its silver surface:
no person, no time, no assurance. It is a bad habit

to check every reflection for presence
as if hoping to be swept back to innocence,

but forgivable. Walls and windows play the reel
in reverse and blink in synchrony.


Filed under Poetry

Pamela Hobart Carter loves Seattle as much for its water and mountains as for its bustle and creativity. She explores the Emerald City daily while walking her dog. Carter used to be a teacher who wrote on the side. Now she is a writer who teaches on the side.