Saturday Poem

the other nils

the hand in the mirror moved a 
fraction of a second before his 
own . his hand followed as 
if drawn to scratch his nose where
the mirror hand already gave relief
the mirror eye began to wink and 
his own eyelids slid together
in conspiracy . he left the bathroom
quickly, closed the door, wondering
if the other nils were walking down
the other hall and if those dark shoes

touched the carpet just ahead of his own

by Nils Peterson