Something makes me look up.
I see the mirror,
and my own intense glance,
captured, framed, and returned.
Am I a part of this scene?
Might another be describing
a barista, a soldier,
and a contemplative rabbi,
furiously scribbling in the back of his book?
Is this normalized Jewish bustle
in need of the meaning I see and seek?
Or is this bustle normalized Jewish meaning itself?