Girl In the Mirror
GIRL IN THE MIRROR *
Like a ship’s compass sits in the binnacle unmoving
While the vessel rolls and pitches,
As if her eyes and head were on separate swivel bearings
She faced me as I spoke but the eyes rolled
Magnetically to the mirror at her side,
Assessing the exact shape and size
Of all the important parts of her outline
From all possible angles, all possible lighting,
While making written notes of my instructions.
And the pen moved unerringly across the paper,
Quickly, error-free and blotless, yet unguided
By eyes which were otherwise engaged:
And she asked politely if that was all, and smiled
At herself as she ushered me from the office,
So she could confront her image more directly
With her automatically-homing radar eyes :
And get an exact bearing on her bows and stern.
. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . .
NOTE
*This shop girl in Moscow was much more interested in her
own image in the mirror than in talking directly to my face.
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