. Illusion At times we can’t tell what we’re looking at. It could be this or else it could be that. A beautiful young woman? Or old hag? Do lines run parallel or zig and zag? Two silhouetted faces face-to-face? Or is it just the outline of a vase? And is that spiraled line continuous? Or just concentric, falsely sinuous? Is that a green oasis or mirage? A space too large or small in a garage? Is one of two lines longer than the other? Or are they equally the same? Oh, brother! Perhaps our lives are riddled with confusion Because the world is riddled with illusion. For could it be that what we think we see Is only virtual reality? We like to think we always see things clearly, But there are times the best we see is “nearly.” As if creation’s beauty is so fetching Because we’re in an M.C. Escher etching. . . James A. Tweedie is a retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He has written and published six novels, one collection of short stories, and three collections of poetry including Mostly Sonnets, all with Dunecrest Press. His poems have been published nationally and internationally in The Lyric, Poetry Salzburg (Austria) Review, California Quarterly, Asses of Parnassus, Lighten Up Online, Better than Starbucks, Dwell Time, Light, Deronda Review, The Road Not Taken, Fevers of the Mind, Sparks of Calliope, Dancing Poetry, WestWard Quarterly, Society of Classical Poets, and The Chained Muse. He was honored with being chosen as the winner of the 2021 SCP International Poetry Competition.