In the cheval glass

I am not who you made me,

who I tried to be.


I am like the clouds

seen on the still pond’s surface,

just passing over.


You know not my heights,

nor I the depth of the pond

rippling in the breeze.


We are the inverse

bound as one in this moment



Yet as the clouds pass

the pond is no longer still

each goes separate ways.


M. Zane McClellan


Copyright  © 2016

All rights reserved