The bright light makes me look at my reflection instead of the window display.
I mingle with the street scene behind me.
People pass by, making shadows like clouds passing over the sun.
Is this the way I look to others?
The girl with the fly away light brown hair.
I cast a searching look at my reflection.
Who is she?
Human beings can not be viewed like houses, trees and stars.
What are her desires and hopes, fears and prejudices?
How well do I know myself?
P.S. With a nod to The Night Train to Lisbon by Pascal Mercier 2004.