The Mirror Inside the Lid
An ordinary rectangular wooden mirrored lid, paint-chipped and worn,
sits in my bathroom, the mirrored part having gotten spotted over time.
I often hold it up in front of me, faced away from the bathroom mirror
to check my hair and clothing from behind.
Sometimes I take it in my gym bag to check myself after workouts.
Other times it has served as a receptacle for small items such as pins or pencils.
The remnants of two gold latches, flattened now and a bit rusty,
prove that this common lid was once attached to something else;
it was a lovely jewelry box, for which the mirror served a definite purpose.
When the box was open, the mirror, upright, reflected a tiny ballerina
dancing on a center platform to the tinkle of a pretty tune.
No one would guess the sweet scene this old mirror once reflected
nor the many childhood treasures its lid covered, so why do I still hang on to it?
However ordinary it is today, this mirror inside a bulky lid gives me some small comfort. . . .
If I try, I can almost recall the times I opened the precious box beneath it
to see a ballerina twirl, accompanied by that sweet music from my youth.
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