Nature is blissfully ignorant of her reflection,

and a cat is content to play with herself in the mirror.

The checker at the grocery store is full of kindness.

What is beautiful and spontaneous and full of truth is without ego.

Machines, adopt us

and then separate us from our mother.

We trade the whole,

for fragments.

Maybe, mountains are majestic because they don’t know it

and cats are superior because they shadow-box.

I have known women

who share their beauty with the world

in cold photographs,

and then,

they go unloved.

2 thoughts on “A Beautiful Poet Who Doesn’t Know It

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