I hope you enjoy this poem. Thank you for reading my work.

This waxed panel becomes a conduit
to clarification. I stare at my
sweat-drenched reflection.
I buff into view a man of recognizable grit and substance—a vision
developing in a darkroom,
a room composed of on-coming
dawn, a room made of metal
and glass. The glass can be shattered,
but the metal resists; as a whole
it becomes a collection of mirrors,
mirrors faithful to who I am
and who I will become.