Third Person in the Mirror
Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.
Some mornings I describe myself
as if reporting on a stranger:
She found the keys.
She answered the message.
She stood in the kitchen
and did not know what she wanted.
Then the mirror fogs from the kettle,
and I write my name with one finger.
First person returns slowly:
I am here.
I am lonely.
I can still call someone.
61 words · 12 lines · Free Verse