A Mirror Me

I saw a mirror me
In that rectangle room of sun,
and wonder.
How better he is, than I.
How more beautiful that honey'd place!
Oh to pierce that glass surface,
and live forever in that certainly
superior paradise,
of life here forever in this
morsel, this small sweet Madeleine, pierced.
How more grateful to escape
the place of grey rain and dour austerity.
No better he is, than I,
in that.
In that rectangle moon of room.
I saw a mirror me.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.