At Six and Forty-Six

I almost thought I could catch them,
the bubbles chasing around and around
on the walls as the pipe organ played
and the fake Muppets did whatever they did.
No bubbles at all, just reflections from tiny mirrors
on the outside of a ball that hung from the ceiling
of Pizza & Pipes in Bellevue, Washington,
like an indoor sun. I saw that same magic trick
last night at Sleeping Village in Chicago,
and here’s the thing: It still worked.



Today’s Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge prompt was “reflection.”


2 thoughts on “At Six and Forty-Six

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