The Mirror

It stands halfway between them –
Observer and observed, wishing he was someone else
Framed in the picture of absolute perfection.
Instead, the self-portrait of another Rembrandt
Outdone; doubled up, reduced in size,
Drifting into the loneliness of distance;
Reversing his words, yet keeping him upright,
While revealing the blemish some might cover
With a touch of make-up to satisfy Narcissus.
But instead the razor scrapes the stubble
Of yesterday’s residue and last night’s growth,
Clearing the lips, the cheeks and chin
To present himself to his better half
For the warm embrace of the morning kiss.

February 2013