Self portrait, future self included
by Masin Persina
[ poetry - july 10 ]
Always, I'm at the center of an immense eye.
Sometimes I'm its pupil,
while at other times
I am one of those floaters
the eye sees
while staring at a blank,
blue sky.
This morning, it rained.
Also, I rode a train to
substitute at a school
for which I was paid
enough to write this poem.
I do not recall the grade
of light
or a single thought I
held.
This evening, under some
loose change of stars,
all the city's windows are
speckled with water stains
and I've lived with Ally
six months.
Some days we're happy with
our very little.
Other days, we are sad.
Tonight, it is sadness, so
I tell her, "Someday,
all of this will look so
funny to us.
We will eat calamari, not
sweat the bill
and look back through our
Ray Bans
and laugh at how small we
now seem,
how out of context our
troubles, like two squirrels,
on tiny water skis, being
pulled across a pool."
