Faces and Mirrors
Looking in the mirror
there was my grandmother's face,
several of my paternal aunts,
but not me.
Perhaps I have forgotten what I look like.
Perhaps I have forgotten who I am.
That face looking back at me
is far older than I remember
with wrinkles and edges in a frowning furl
imbedded deep in the forehead, cheeks and jowl.
The years are not always kind.
The mind is full of memories.
The mirror tells no one lies
and offers no deception
what you see
is what you get.
The family resemblance is unmistakeable
There's my grandmother looking back at me.
She nods her head approvingly
as recognition appears,
she smiles widely and speaks
It's okay.
It's still you
and you in me
and me in you.
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