A Mirror Within a Mirror

A mirror hang upon the wall Within a frame of brass, Edges moulds the leaves of fall Around the silver glass. I stretch my fingers touching The cold hand that reach to mine, A pen the fingers clutching Moving in a unseen line. Ink stains on my fingertips Reflect, exact the same, Words that form upon my lips Repeated in the frame. Your eyes are windows to your soul A phrase I once heard said, reflect in mirrors good or fowl In which your heart is read. But in this glass before my face I see my eyes dark blue, of my soul there is no trace Nor of my heart a clue. A mirror in a mirrors glass Reflecting truth or lies? Emotions in a frame of brass Reflected In my eyes.