In the blinding light of midday, I walk a busy sidewalk.
I am in a crowd, yet I walk alone.
I see my reflection in widows I walk by, my figure stretched by Imperfect ripples within the panes.
How odd that I just now realize how alike I am to these panes.
Choices and events caused me to buckle and bend,
Shaping who I am now.
Nevertheless, I find myself asking the same question I asked
My mirror reflection:
Who is the person I see now?
I still remember learning to speak, to draw, and to read.
I still hear the laughter, here in this city far from my home.
I can still remember my home, regal pines and sheltering aspens,
All whispering their stories to me.
I can still smell the juniper bush, and taste the Indian Candy flower
Upon my tongue.
Where have those days gone?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem