House of Mirrors in this house of mirrors look around you all around you looks at you if you think you are out of sight of stars remember light itself is the mirror the stars made you the stars own you the stars constantly surveil you the sun itself shines its light at you for hours because it must know you will soon sin though you never believed in God the sun will whisper I am your sunshine your only sunshine and every other source of light will seem ninety-three million miles away and in no rush to reach you
—Submitted on 09/25/2022
James Croal Jackson is the author of Count Seeds With Me (Ethel Zine & Micro-Press, 2022), Our Past Leaves (Kelsay Books, 2021), and The Frayed Edge of Memory (Writing Knights, 2017). Based in Pittsburgh, he works in film production and edits The Mantle Poetry.
Editor’s Note: The series title Flush Left refers to the fact that, due to our limited WordPress skills, we are only considering poems that are flush left. Poems already in our Submittable queue that have simple non-flush-left formatting may be considered publication.