She walks beside the glass
And glances into it
To see
The soft bangs
Swept across her
Smooth brow
Her stiff collar atop
The sturdy strap
Of her stylish bag
Bumping her hip
Stride for stride
Above the Prada heels
Until she slips
Around the steel corner
I cross to the glass
And look into it
To see
My frazzled hair
Above the fallen collar
Of the slack shirt
Over frayed khakis
Creased by
Green garden clogs
My reflection
Pulls me into it
To see
Nose to the glass
For a closer look
At the
Garden hose
Next to the seed stand
And sheepskin gloves by
The garden rake.
I like what I see.