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a poem in 300 seconds

i noticed something the other
day driving in the car--
looking through the rear-view mirror--
superimposed on the traffic
(trailing, passing, flashing)
was my little girl,
but she wasn't all there, she was
see-through like a ghost.
and the light had to be just right
otherwise she vanished,
or i just saw an arm,
or the dark outline of her carseat buckle,
or the glint of blond hair.
even with her whole transparent face
framed in that lopsided rectangle
i didn't like the view.
because she is no spirit
haunting me over my shoulder.
she is real,
clapping quiet hands
singing a song without words
peering out the window like i'm
driving miss daisy.
i'd rather see her
so i flip the mirror
down into the other position,
and she's solid again
and she can see me!
and now it's everyone else
who flashes in and out of view,
a phantom world.


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