In Our Image

I imagined once I knew what I was doing when someone asked me how I was doing but they can talk about the weather anytime. No, they said, I asked you first. Unthinking, the question was rhetorical, I imagined a bird that would make that noise, like looking for something else in a mirror that only showed faces. I’m fine, how are you. Oh, you’re fine too— chirping dead words to veil the window-face, afraid we knew what to listen to.

October 1972