Outnumbered

In the heat of summer
mirrors can contort
all along the panel.
In the wind, panels spin.
Wherever reflections land
there's someone basking
in the sin. It's a pretty channel,
maybe a witty bummer.
Animals can't cope
when behind their eyes,
are ears for fears.
In the heat of summer,
by mirrors we're outnumbered.
Mirrors win.
Bring enough rope,
whether to fit, or escape
the hole you're in.
Just remember,
mirrors win.

(MTP)