Narcissus [2] Poem by Gert Strydom

To be caught
into the me, into the self,
and constantly to have to delve deeper into it,
to see only your own face
and at times look at it with fear

as if your whole soul
is reflected in your own appearance,
as if no wife
can at any time draw you with her beauty,
even if her eyes are blue as the sky

is a terrible kind of thing
and he stares and stares
while the water of the pool
does continually circle out wider
and does see himself and nobody else
while he waits and waits from early to late.