Mirror Poems: 352 / 500

The Woman In The Mirror

When I pass a mirror
and catch you watching me,
I'm stricken with the strangest chill
that no one else can see.

The resemblance is uncanny.
The face, the hair, the nose.
I'm even just about your height.
I guess that's how it goes.

I'll always be reminded
of when you went away
each time I pass a mirror...
(That's every single day.)

Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Mirror Poems: 352 / 500
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Brian Dorn 02 September 2006

Mary, it can be striking how much we look like our parents and how those images can bring back certain feelings. Powerful write! Brian

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Tony Jennett 04 November 2005

Mary if I had not read most of your poetry this might have been lost on me but I have and it's not

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