I think my reflection fluttered by

all frizzled in gray wool and shivering electric

And just at the moment I saw my mirror go dark

I think my reflection lighted on the windowsill

To remind me we have wings

If only orange crêpe ones that can be bitten off by a clique of bad weather.

I think a tawny deer dined in the place

Where skeletons were creeping just before

And with his frazzled joy, chased them away

Blind to the rattling chains they dragged behind

And to the scars I kept with my keys as souvenirs.

I think an unborn idea trembled on my lips

Perhaps it was my smile, squirming under the leaden grip

Of my concentrated eyebrows

Only reflecting his.

I think there was a thought

Which luminously crackled down the tenuous ties

That wired our butterfly eyes

But not our hearts nor hands

If in fact I am not dreaming


And if I did see my reflection flutter by

And if he did rest for a spot of pizza

On my windowsill beside the apple trees

If in fact I saw my reflection tiptoe onward

Glowing of those last red notes of sun

Before the horizon zipped closed –

Maybe it was nothing

The flutter that tickled my ear with a strange familiar song

about no one


But the kind of nothing you can share

Remember in the sizzling crater where the mirror once loomed

Let butterflies anchor on your eyelashes

And reflect

What even starlit glass cannot

Which is to say



Image credits in order of appearance:

By Joe Mabel, CC BY-SA 3.0,

By Daniel Schwen – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0,

By Giovanirvp – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0,





One thought on “Nothing

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