I saw him again today.
The old man, staring at me,
His blue-grey eyes surprised
As if not expecting me.
Grey hair and unkempt beard,
Lines that may become furrows
Etched across his face,
A map of the passing years.
I consider speaking to him,
But there’s something there,
A forbidding tension we share,
And I hold my tongue.
He’s there every day, now.
The same place, same time,
Watching and waiting,
Though I don’t know why.
And every day the same,
I turn away to attend the day,
Wondering what he’ll do,
To wile away his hours.

Steve K Smy,
26th. January, 2013.

6 thoughts on “Mirror

  1. I always wonder if the reflection is thinking the same thing on the otherside…
    this is a very thought-filling poem…I like it very much
    Thank you for sharing…
    Take Care…

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