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.