Charles Simic

(1938 / Belgrade)

Mirrors At 4 A.M - Poem by Charles Simic

You must come to them sideways
In rooms webbed in shadow,
Sneak a view of their emptiness
Without them catching
A glimpse of you in return.

The secret is,
Even the empty bed is a burden to them,
A pretense.
They are more themselves keeping
The company of a blank wall,
The company of time and eternity

Which, begging your pardon,
Cast no image
As they admire themselves in the mirror,
While you stand to the side
Pulling a hanky out
To wipe your brow surreptitiously.

Topic(s) of this poem: mirror


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Poem Submitted: Monday, April 6, 2015



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