Blackout into Sunlight

I didn’t know

it would happen at the mirror—

wiping the noxema off my face,

my fingers making wide strokes in the jar;

the cream sweeping into white cliffs,

the deep blue of the jar behind them.

I was seeing something real in my mind.

The world got off me in front of the mirror—

a passenger rushing from a train

and when I struck my head

on the bedpost

which tree

was it

I was running toward

wanting to feel the sun coming through its branches?