Ordinary mirrors that hang upon a wall
Reflect images. Likenesses, yet shadows small
Of what they really see or do they see at all?
Kaleidoscope of images, carousals round
Whirling, ever whirling illusion without sound
Abstract visions with vague and misty auras found
That echo other images now out of place
Shadowy marionettes that dance in cryptic grace
Each time a mirror casts reflection of a face.
Marie Hunter Atwood