I look out the window
Into the mirror
reflecting the window
which reflects
the vague forms
of trees we’ve passed,
and every fifty feet or so-
another power-line.
Sitting there
Watching the reflection
Of the reflection
Of those trees-
I saw me
When we passed
Through shadows.
And,
When we passed fields
The reflected reflection
Was that of clouds,
And when tall trees
Cast shadows
From our other side,
I saw myself
Swimming through clouds
In that blue sky

©Brandon Webb
2012