Perfectly Flawed

Standing at the water’s edge
No hint of a breeze
It is hard to tell where the water ends
And the sky begins-
A reflection so clear
Trees, clouds, and sky
The perfect mirror image
But perfection is never a reality
And my contemplation rapidly changes from
Crystal-clear-painted-on-plate-glass
To soft-blurry-impressionist-canvas-
Fluctuations caused by the slightest breeze
Or the gentlest toss of a pebble-
Enough motion, and the image completely disappears-
No wonder my own reflection causes confusion-
Rarely do I stand perfectly still, staring into the mirror
Without random thoughts breezing through my head
Or someone gently tapping my shoulder- Oh well,
If I spend too much time in front of the mirror,
I will miss the treasures only visible
Standing at the water’s edge

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