A Sense Of Self Copyright © Sally Warrell 26 June 2009

After all, I am not
Who you take me to be
Nor who I took myself to be
A moment ago either

Which one was it you wanted?
Selves reside here,
Angry young woman lives here
And inner child
And disillusioned fifty something

Sometimes I catch myself
Looking back at me
Sometimes I can meet
My eye. But mostly
I elude myself especially

Myself is like the long looked for
Long dead black cat
From my childhood
Appearing in the corner
Of my eye, for a moment
Then gone, a trick of the light

Being most looked for
I am most hard to find
And still don’t know myself.