Wall paintings
are for looking at.
Mirrors are not. Mirrors
are puzzles for finding
your way in or out.
Once, I found on my way
a geode thinking itself
an unfertilized egg
thinking itself
to sleep
but unable
to pull up the anchor.
I smashed it open. Dazzling!
I’ve tried repeatedly
nailing to a page that explosion
to hang there.
As a dancer, I find
I have to dance again
each time I’m moved
as though the last time
didn’t count.
A look within
finds DNA shared with many
I was too late to meet,
though I’ve looked
in the same sky.
The very same one.
Theoretically.

Joe Imwalle is an educator, poet, and translator who lives in Oakland, Calif. with his wife and daughter. He holds an MFA in Poetry from St Mary’s College of CA. His work can be found in Beyond Words, Indolent Books: What Rough Beast, The Courtship of Winds, and No Contact Mag.