Friday Poem

The Great Hall of Mirrors

Once I wrote, “On the mule of time
we sit backwards. It carries us forward
anyway, though things appear a little askew.”
Now I walk into a room with a hundred
rearview mirrors from lost and forgotten
vehicles and think, “At my age, I’m on no mule,
but in a fast car, on a freeway, exceeding
the speed limit,” and think again, “Even the sun
is eight minutes ago,” and think again,
“Consciousness is a rearview mirror.
Whatever you see has been already.”

by Nils Peterson
from All the Marvelous Stuff
Caesura Editions, 2019

Drawing, Rearview,  Jim Culleny

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