 | | 2013-04-14 02:10
From blog Bag and a Beret
Am I just a reflection?
Do I exist? I see my reflection. I feel the wind on my cheek. I hear my heels clack on the sidewalk. But how do I know it's real? How do I know any of this is real? I caught this image in the mirrored window of a local business. It's Sunday so I hope they were closed. The white letters in the photo are a poem that someone has stuck to the window - and someone else has unstuck. My sweater has the word "Wi" (why) on it. Sometimes when I come out of my coffee shop after journaling, my mind stays behind at my little table, still ruminating over those pages which are now safely stowed at my side in my toolbox handbag. This dress has headed...
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