Identity Crisis
This morning while eating Kelloggs
Cornflakes
at the kitchen table I saw a face
in the back of the spoon.
I checked my reflection in the oven
door. It wasn’t me.
I panicked. Phoned my mother, asked
her to describe me, paint me
a thumbnail sketch. She said, ‘I
think you have the wrong number’
and hung up.
Marilyn Francis
If you have any comments on this poem, Marilyn Francis would be
pleased to
hear them.