In a restaurant over salad
the reflection of a man
moves to meet him,
to break and rebegin in another pane.
Like yourself he moves down a lane
or tunnel and sees only tokens of self.
The hardware of living stands
on a shelf on one wall,
The infamous sun is attacking, and all
his movement is toward the street,
but the reflection breaks
and the movement ends.

Young brother, we are given this to see,
and I hope we can,
and I hope you will sit here and see the man
and his reflection meet and disappear
in a restaurant away from the oven of sun.
And I hope you will come down the stairs at a run
to look out the door at an empty street,
to see a doorway without your feet
in it -- and then laugh.

June 29, 1976

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