If my face were a cloud in the sky
What would I make of it?
Would I look up and recognize myself
Or would the configuration look abstract and unfamiliar?
Is my face truth
And I an imposter
Or do we match?
Would my fluffy likeness be more familiar to me
Than the one that looks back in the mirror?
Which is truth?
Where is the recognition?
Does my face translate
Who I am?
Does my face make me
Who I am?
Or is it just a face
Just a cloud passing through and changing shapes and shades as it drifts on the wind?
3 comments:
Nice, Deb! I like it! kk
ah, the true questions 'does my face translate who i am?'
i ask myself that or some form of that everyday, my friend.
lovely poem. thank you!
What a terrific analogy, Deb--the cloud, the face. I'm intrigued by this poem, by the question it raises, by the idea that the face changes shapes and shades as it drifts ON the wind.
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