An Image

An Image

I

Is it the thought of death?
For now to look at myself
In a mirror requires
A moment's composure,
An intake of breath,
As if I was going under water
And had to steal myself
Before taking the plunge.

II

And there it is,
An image to peruse.
On a screen it seems more real,
Offering itself
To greater scrutiny.
All may be vanity
But age requires a certain clarity
In the dark room of the mind
Before we too are expunged.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

first image ages and dies even before our minds and bodies follow suit.
WE hope that sharp intake of breath is not our last.
j.

[John]

Not our last is very true. We go on and on and on, until we don't.