Mirror, mirror you make me cry
with dearest memories of days gone by.
Days of youth may be sliding away
but this glass reflects ALL the women I am today.
I grab more cream, my saving grace,
add some make-up to soften this place
where Grandma’s smile and Mom’s sweet eyes
offer me this most tender surprise.
It is my own reflection that I can readily see
the one inherited from the faces in my history.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem