Mirror
as through a glass darkly
meant a window to my child’s eyes,
probably at night, or perhaps it
was the frown our mothers told
us God might make permanent
so we’d better cut it out,
that dark look we got sent
to our rooms for, but when
mirror was finally identified,
like looking glass someone explained,
I understood face to face
only was that God’s face
lurking behind mine as I peered
at the medicine chest in the morning
or would we have eyes
at all if we made it to heaven,
drowning like moths in a sea of light.
