Wednesday, October 28, 2009

3WW: Incubate, Nightmare, Vanity

I stumble
into the bathroom,
look at my face
in the mirror
above the vanity,
and scream.

This nightmare
of aging
just goes on and on.
I try to smooth
the wrinkles
but they return.

I wish I could take
the tiny eggs
of youth,
incubate them
for sixty years
then watch them hatch

into a new me.
Instead, I avoid
harsh lights
and brush my teeth
in the glow
of the nightlight.

9 comments:

ThomG said...

You are feeling it, huh? But the muse in you has kicked out a nice piece of work. Aging isn't for sissies, I'll tell you that.

Lurid

anthonynorth said...

It comes upon us, unfortunately.

Tumblewords: said...

I'm sure it'll get better. :) Your poem is fun - I can relate, for sure.

lissa said...

yes, that's life, can't avoid it but we can certainly avoid looking at ourselves in the mirror

Yellow Tulip said...

:)...he he..nice poem

gautami tripathy said...

It is always a pleasure to read your poetry..

the waiting

pjd said...

You've captured it perfectly.

It just goes on and on.

LOL, I love this.

swapna said...

Love the thought of tiny eggs of youth. Enjoyed reading it.

b said...

Let me tell you I am with you...but then what do mirrors know?

b

Linda's Poems