poems as hand- and foot-holds on a glass mountain

Falling Away

Some say mirrors and camera lens don’t lie
having never learned to speak
but there are many strange offerings

a Truth is tall flightless bird
sometimes seen walking the rim of the world
flexing its multicolored wings

to show us it could fly if it wanted
is sometimes two of them standing a few feet apart
studying each other

not quite identical; one green eye
one blue but switched left for right
a long thin beak curling slightly at the end
like an reluctant question mark

They stare at each other each wishing away
the other’s differences as lies or impertinences
as in this morning’s mirror

two strangers surprise each other
brushing each other’s teeth
straightening a long-forgotten tie

they search each other for signs of priority
original to copy as each of us
has a thousand faces

some are a poem’s three layers a reader removes
fast or slow; a multicolored overcoat,
silk pajamas then a sly nakedness

last seen falling away
like mutual mirrorings of sands and grasses
hints out of a fierce solitude

becoming another body neither knows
at first a shadow in a mind of shadows
vaguely either door or doorway

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