You can tell me:
'Well, it's a face..? '
'But, whose...I'm not
so sure? '
Your reflection
smiles awkwardly
as if embarassed
it should know
...the you...of you.
A mirror caught
in another mirror
traps your words
leaving you stranded
in a dimension
other
than here.
() .
Your beauiful
caligraphy
falter...then.. fails
your hand
lost in the wilderness
of a page
the words
losing their minds
script degenerates
to gibberish
you become only
footsteps in the snow
a chill Alzhiemer's wind
cries through
the ruins of you
your face
in the mirror
more real
than the real
...you?
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/only-footsteps-in-the-snow-for-lyn/
