Upon Reflection

It’s that one time of day
already. Again. It’s those
few final and always fleeting
pre-sunset minutes when
the muted, slanted rays
finally angle themselves
into his west-facing window,
set fire to his cluttered desk,
and turn his long-blank
computer screen
into a mirror.

He tries
to capture the image;
attempts to reflect
upon reflection
but he fails.


dVerse Poets Pub


10 thoughts on “Upon Reflection

  1. Let’s see, we know your cluttered desk faces west, beyond that you remain a man of mystery, talented and waiting to be known.

  2. The perfect title for this poem, Ron, a self-portrait written in the third person. And what a self-portrait! An ingenious trick of nature, setting fire to a cluttered desk and turning that moment into an ephemeral mirror.

  3. This is deep, far deeper than a reflection or lack of it. I think I share some of your thoughts, and I certainly share the blazing desk that doesn’t necessarily start a fire on the screen.

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