It's Still Life

Reflection

This mirror grows old.
A mirage of flaked silver.
Flecked specks of questioning
looks where time shines.

Some fine young woman
of centuries ago looks back
at herself, looks to change
her past. Looks to the future.

And now it’s mine. It hangs
on the wall. Catches the late
afternoon sun. Reflects through
the stair rails. Down the hall.

I look into this old mirror,
an antique. It and me.

  
 
 
for Wednesday Muse and dVerse Poets. This week’s prompt:
explore the Japanese art of Kintsugi and dVerse theories.