Here is a pair of poetic prose pieces from Stephen Dunn's book, Riffs & Reciprocities:ReflectionA mirror is the beginning of a comedy, and comedies, like the truth, are always a little cruel. But it isn't true that mirrors never lie. They lack attitude, and therefore cannot be wholly trusted. A hangover means as much to them as a great sadness. Sometimes we can hardly recognize ourselves in a mirror--because the image is so accurate. We understand the need to shatter, to transmogrify, in order to feel more like ourselves. If we place a bowl in front of a mirror, it is an arrangement so artificial that what's real--the bowl, the mirror, and the viewing eye--constitute a separate reality. Good realism is like that. The inanimate especially longs to be rescued by viewpoint more than passion or conviction.
ShadowA shadow makes us think twice, thus we link it with doubt and worry. Something has gotten in the way, and it's often us. We elongate, flatten. At a streetcorner, we can be seen before we arrive. The truth, a shadow implies, is in perspective, a matter of what's behind us. The natural is merely one possibility; artificial light serves just fine. In either case, concealment is part of clarity A shadow, like some of us, is always a citizen of where it finds itself. Pavement. Hardwood floor. It finds texture as it goes. In this way it is more palpable, say, than a woman unseen except by her mirror. Or a solitary man, the keyhole to his sunlit room closed-up with a key. Yet I long for anyone with a shadowy past, half texture-in-the-making, half half-told-story, a sweet balance between style and disclosure.
Dunn, Stephen. Riffs & Reciprocities: Prose Pairs. (New York: W.W. Norton & Company) 1998, 80-81
