No Reflection by Cheryl Merrick
I make a comment
and the room suddenly quiets.
After an awkward moment,
all resumes as before.
all resumes as before.
I mention I write,
again the embarrassed silence,
followed by a change of subject.
Could I really think so differently
that others have no idea
how to respond to me?
Sharing my talent,
I watch as others shrink away,
uncomfortable by the unfamiliar,
so that I see no reflection of me
in their eyes.
I wrote this after mentioning what I was writing to a friend who is an ISTJ. We
