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Mirror

Rating: 5.0
Like any other changeling
She was waiting to transform
Waiting for her arms to curl into flaps
Waiting for another set of legs to emerge
Standing before the mirror of transformation
With the decal in the upper corner of the glass
Of a white winged unicorn
Suddenly the thought of morphing
Frightened her a bit
As she thought of the impossibility
Of being in the ballet
Or riding on an airplane to visit her aunt
She crossed her fingers
Canceling her wish to be a unicorn
She spun three times before the magic mirror
And closed her eyes
Hoping that when she opened them
She would just be herself
And wondering as she did this
Exactly who or what she was
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COMMENTS
Michael Harmon 08 September 2009
A fine expression of the desire for transformation, and the metamorphosis the desire itself may take. Very well, done.
1 1 Reply
Eddie Roa 21 January 2009
an excursion into a fantasy but snapping back to reality. nice imagery.
1 1 Reply
Nimal Dunuhinga 10 November 2006
I see the spellbound of a true bard and his subtle craftsmanship.
1 2 Reply
Patti Masterman 30 October 2006
A true magical spell of a poem. And we do have to be careful what we wish for, no matter our age. Excellently written too.
1 1 Reply
Cynthia Aluning 13 December 2005
Life is indeed a mirror. What you want it reflected, it shows...what one had molded his life into, it relected. Nonetheless, wishing for something great is but normal, to achieve it or not is the prime question. If one will just sit and wait for the rain to pour, he will see the same image reflected on the mirror...however, if he went out to see how the pouring of rain does with her, he will for sure see a wet image of him in the mirror. To wrap it up...unless you act for a change in life, you still see the same thing in the mirror. This is an awesome write, I am touched.
1 1 Reply
Hugh Cobb 29 November 2005
George: This is really a fine poem. It is well-crafted and the ending is just right. Very well done, indeed. HDC
1 1 Reply
John Kay 29 November 2005
George...you surprise me. This is a well crafted poem. I love the end. I look forward to reading more of your poems. I surfed Malibu with a guy named George Murdock. Strange.
1 1 Reply

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