The Mirror Poem by Julius Lenaiyarra

In the neighbourhood,
At a busy junction
There is a mirror
That has been installed, long ago
And so it was.

Passing-by, I watched it.
Figures appeared
That existed in a century
And so, as I watched
Figures appeared, with springy feet
That tried to walk, every time
But did remain same
In the ineventual art of development
And a mare blame of one, or two
The memories of a century revived
Should we blame the mirror
For reminding us of the neighbourhood
Or was it all a creation of the mind?
The figures remain pure and unchanged.