Principles of Light and Distance
She can tell how far she is from herself by the light.
The moon streams in her late-night window
as she dances before the mirror and holds a pane of glass.
The reflection reminds her that she is right here,
and couldn’t be closer to herself. The glass reminds her
that she cannot trap all the rays, and they will escape this transparency,
fanning into the world and out of her control.
What has bounced off her dancing body could be miles away by now.
The moon reminds her that light can be second-hand,
reflected, and everything that hits her through the window
took at least eight minutes after being fired off from the sun,
while the moon, that great mirror of dust, is only the messenger,
and the mirror on her floor is no better than a moon.
In this nexus of light, she feels strangely blurred,
like a ghost in a prism.
Bruce W. Niedt
Bruce W. Niedt is a recently-retired civil servant and southern New Jersey native whose poetry has appeared in Writer's Digest, The Lyric, US 1 Worksheets, Chantarelle's Notebook, Spitball, and many other publications. He has been nominated twice for a Pushcart Prize. His latest chapbook is Hits and Sacrifices (Finishing Line Press, 2016). You can visit his blog, "Orangepeel", at bniedt.blogspot.com.
The Ekphrastic Review
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