<< Back to Sam's poetry
<< Back to "Mirror" poems

He pulled me into the mirror by the scruff of my neck
catching me by surprise as my feet left the deck.
I didn’t even realise it had happened until I looked round to check.
“Take a good look at yourself,” he said pointing back,
but no one was there; the mirror in tact, with not even a crack.
So I gave him a look to show I’d lost track.
“This is all I see, when you’re not there.”
His pointed finger gesticulated just how much he cared,
almost accusing me of leaving him trapped in this lair.
“Then when you return, I must do exactly as you do,
whether I’m busy, or reading, or suffering from flu,
I must follow your actions; sticking to them like glue.
” He eyeballed me hard until I had to look away
whispering profanities under his breath, as if to pray;
I stood in silence awaiting what next he would say.
“Just give me a chance to walk freely around;
to leave this room and touch the ground
and see the worldly sights and sounds.”
Then quick as a flash he leapt outside.
As I reached out “Please, wait!” I cried;
but he had gone and the mirror stood firm, however I tried.
Now he won’t pass close enough for me to grab
so I sit and stare at the walls that are drab
and stare around as time just lags.
What he does I do not know
but he is now me and free to go
wherever he wants from high to low.
I’ll get him back with gall and guile:
until that time he’s out of reach, so I’ll wait a while,
but when he’s here, he looks and winks at me with a devilish smile.

*Events in this poem are loosely based on a true story

© Sam Cunningham, February 2009