MIRRORS AND STORMS

My wife told me that her grandmother in Mexico
used to put blankets over the mirrors
when it rained
the reasons have been forgotten

I think of this in my cab
stuck on the side of Mission Road
during a terrible monsoon storm
windshield wipers flapping like the arms of a hiker
in a swarm of bees

I keep glancing at myself in the rearview mirror
my face is too much
in the middle of it all
that isn't me
something else is coming through

I put a handkerchief over the mirror
sit here in my little island cave
of metal and rubber

looking out at the lightning and rain
like atomic bombs blowing up
all over the known world.

Mather Schneider
Tucson, AZ