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:

  1. 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

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

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

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  4. You've captured it perfectly.

    It just goes on and on.

    LOL, I love this.

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

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

    b

    ReplyDelete

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