"Selfies in a Rearview Mirror" an original poem by thepoetmiranda

An original poem by thepoetmiranda

Intro

I didn’t post an original poem (or memoir piece) here last week because things happen. I know that’s not very National Poetry Month of me! I hope to post two original poems this week to make up the deficit, in addition to sharing some finds from the public domain.

This one, like so many poems I share, is about my identity as a transgender woman. That’s not always a topic in my poems, but I feel like these poems are the most important to share at this moment in history.

If you like this poem and would like to support my work, here’s what would help:

1. Donations via ko-fi.com/thepoetmiranda

2. Share this poem (and any others you like). My organic audience is a little shy of 200 subscribers here, and me sharing my own links on social media only gets me so far—especially on the networks that shadow ban trans people.

3. Subscribe here and YouTube.

As always, the poem text is below, followed by my video reading.

💜Miranda📚

Selfies in a Rearview Mirror

She sits in the parking garage,
already running late,
and frames her face in the rearview mirror.
She takes her selfie.
Her eyeshadow turned out good
on the third try.

She looks in—to see behind her—
to who she’s always been:

To when she clutched Raggedy Andy Ann.

To when she told her mom,
I don’t want to be the little brother anymore.

To when she tumbled across the front lawn
after her sister taught her cartwheels.
She wanted to turn over and over until
she stuck the landing
herself.

To when her sister’s friends experimented
with her hair and makeup.
To them, she was
a mannequin.

To when she dressed up
as a girl
for Halloween—for fun.
She came alive
in her uncostume.

To when she lifted her hands
at church camp,
and pleaded. She spent years—
decades—pleading
for this thorn to be removed.

To when she wore
tails in the spring
because she couldn’t
wear a white dress.

To when her children called her dad.
She tried
to be a good father
despite the distance within.

To when she found
something like a woman’s courage
reflecting back to her.

She adjusts the rearview mirror
and pulls forward
onto the gray city street.

My Reading