Mirror

• Estelle Stathoulis, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2007

They say "the children cry when they see their reflection",
The eyes of the innocent cut from the core.
The dying fields, the crying skies
Undergoing this left-handed dissection.
Our only reward is a mirror:
Seeing behind but never forward as we do the opposite.
No mirror is big enough.
Like Blackjack dealt with green hands
Revealing cards like time
What cards shall we get in this game of chance?
What chance shall we get in this game of cards?
All the while, small noses press up against the glass and ask why.
As for us, we look away -
Next time, turn and look and delve in a reflective piece of glass.
Their mark is all over the world.
The world is our mirror.