In mirrors’ dance, where shadows glide,
Where swinging doors did once reside,
There stands a girl, by glass embraced,
In wings of salt, her form encased.
Oh very young one
From distance vast, a figure nears,
A motionless stance, he veers,
He queries you, the mirrors sing,
In whispered echoes, they take wing,
Reflecting truths in swift ballet,
Like birds that grace the sky’s grand play,
With love’s sweet swing, they shimmer bright,
In endless flight, their hearts take flight,
Oh very young one
As dreams of salt, the girl envisions,
Mirrored in her soul’s collisions,
In Dickinson’s rhyme and spirit’s flight,
This tale of glass, in dance, takes flight.
:: 010.02.2023 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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