Dancing across the desert

with a slender ballerina,

I hear a voice whisper

sister. The ballerina slips

from my embrace and vanishes

into a mirror half-buried

in sand and cactus flowers.

I try to follow, breaking

the mirror with my first step.

Its glass bleeds like skin.

Brother. I hold my breath.

Wind blows a fine sand

across the broken shards.

I drop to my knees,

cutting them on the glass.

I hear a voice whisper

brother. I raise my head.

The hand of the ballerina

extends from the mirror,

trying to caress my face.

---

Cliff Saunders is the author of several poetry chapbooks, including Mapping the Asphalt Meadows (Slipstream Publications) and The Persistence of Desire (Kindred Spirit Press). His poems have appeared recently in Quadrant, The Rockford Review, Exacting Clam, Concision Poetry Journal, ArLiJo, and Cigarette Fire.