The Mirror

At first I thought,

My mother had moved the mirror,

That had been lying covered under a sheet

In our basement,

And brought it into our dining room

For Thanksgiving dinner.

Perhaps, (I reasoned),

She did this to make the room look expansive.

So it would appear large enough to accommodate

All the uncles and aunts and cousins,

And all the cousins of aunts and uncles,

And all the grandparents and great-grandparents

Who sat so close together that some of us

(Myself included),

Began to sweat.

At first I thought,

That when I looked at him,

I was looking simply at myself.

The resemblance was so striking that when I raised my arm to wipe my brow

I almost shuddered upon seeing my “reflection” remain completely still.

When my grandmother,

Following my gaze,

Asked cheerily,

“I guess you’ve never met your dad's brother, have you?”

I bit my tongue,

So that I would not shout,

“I must have been raised by him.”