Chimera

What’s that I see – 

in the corner of the mirror, 

when I look just right, 

when the lights are turned down low 

and I’m not too busy thinking 

about how complicated my life is these days. 

If I don’t blink or squint, 

I can make it out – 

hunched and twisted, like maybe Rumpelstiltskin 

or some other creature 

lurking in the origins of old fairy tales.  

I can feel it sometimes, 

breathing on my neck, ready to pounce – 

but then, 

when I glance just so 

and don’t turn out all the lights, 

it shrinks back 

just enough, 

until I pass another mirror.

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