It is hard to recognize who is looking 

back at me when I stand before 

a mirror.  The body distorts who I 

would see and only by some other-

world calculus do I say, “That’s me”

the way a student gives an answer

without the confidence it’s right.

I move, the reflection disappears 

and I am left to do what I do without

the hindrance of reflection, the doubt

of whom I’ve seen is me.  I don’t 

remember time passing so quickly,

taking so much in its giving.

Somewhere inside I am strong, quick,

smooth-skinned, clear-eyed;

there’s no reflection of that.  I watch

myself feel and think and act,

know as I’ve been I am not.  Think

about breaking mirrors, think about

bad luck, know I can’t break every 

mirror especially the one inside me.