On Reflections



A reflection
of a thing is as close
as that thing will ever be
our eyes being what they are
seeing a thing up`side`down
only to be corrected by
our brain so trained
at sly edition

A story now
is a different thing
As I listen to your tale
my ears being what they are
hear the thing right`side`up
tweak the imagination
in which I perceive
true elucidation

And the poem
is truest of them all
In it deep calls to deep
my heart whispers to yours
as yours whispers in return
image beyond reflection
past all imagination
soulful attention

“All good books are alike in that they are truer
than if they had really happened . . .” ~ Ernest Hemingway


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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4 Responses to On Reflections

  1. rivrvlogr says:

    You have mine (attention).

    Liked by 2 people

  2. “deep calls to deep” is utterly profound


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