Street Scene

Roger Shattuck

I have learned to pass
the mirrors lurking in the storefronts
without looking.
One fed-back slice of life
cuts through pedestrian security
and traps the eye I am
each time I eye myself alone
in public view.
The child who dreaded stepping on the cracks
grows up avoiding glassy looks.
No vaccine lessens the adult paralysis
of being irrevocably made
in one's own ghastly image.
But this tells little of the longer tale
the lifetime role to strut
or sneak across the mirror-stage
of queasy self-acknowledgment.