The False Mirror (1928)
by René Magritte
As day broke
and so did my dream
I woke up
With one weeping eye.
Still rubbing one
and wiping the other
I could not tell
cloud from sky.
Blue clouds and white sky.
But how could that be?
I focused and refocused my eye
The white surely exceeded the blue.
So it must be.
Unless this strange morning
There was too much cloud
on too little a sky.
But every time I blinked
They switched places.
Both seemed still
And both seemed afloat.
Both changed forms from beaks to boats.
Exhausted, I asked a friend
To look out his window
And describe me his view.
Despondent he said,
"All I see is grey"
