Looking Glass
J
Jan Oskar Hansen
0
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Looking Glass
A mirror hang on a tree, to scare crows, or
perhaps it was for shepherd's goddess to
comb her golden fleece? Its light reflected
on the ground- quick as a breeze- a ghost
of a mouse looking for its burrow?
Far off, amongst green olive trees, I saw
sheep the colour of clay, lawnmowers on
four legs, they kept track of their lambs by
baaing, each one had a distinct bleat, baas
from their young, had a pleasing euphony.
Clouds sailed across the sky, clippers and
schooners bound for India; tea, spices and
other delights, the tiny ghost had found its
tunnel. I looked into Alice's own mirror,
and saw the blankness of cancelled time.
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