Never Intended

The plate glass window glints along the main street
winking
I am drawn in by the images beyond its sheen
Beautiful objects are piled within
random, erratic visions of delight
I see them
I want them.
I can't afford them.
The price is too dear
I can never have them
might as well never touch them
Not through the glass
Ads on signs beckon from within
They are for anyone to see
certainly none are directed to me
Theirs is a public face
intended to promote the objects on display
product placement
I am displaced
I want to touch them all the same
How worthy are they to possess?
The ads do not really say
I pull a marker from my pocket
its tip squeals erratically along the surface
I write about the things I see,
what they mean to me
Glancing up, I see my own face looking back
a trick of the light
a happenstance reflection along the glimmer of the glass
The glass is smooth, impregnable.
It is calm
It reflects the light
It says, "It was never my intention to be a mirror."
Never its purpose.
So I step back.
And I walk away