Mirror Mirror

I’m cleaning the bathroom

It’s amazing how you can ignore grime

Until it reaches a certain pitch

Then you’re vengeful

Rubbing out the blight with vigor.

I clean with my mother in mind

Thinking how spotless she kept her house and how

I could never match her enthusiasm

For washing a floor or cleaning a window.

I spray the mirror

Not an unpleasant smell.

As I wipe, the world is smeared into a fog

An impressionist painting of a bathroom

A woman

Disheveled

Rubbing out the splashes of toothpaste foam

Her arm flesh rolls in a rhythmic dance

Her face emerges from the smears

Crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes

I pause.

Wrinkles are changing the shape of her mouth

I gaze

She’s familiar

I see my mother, my sister, my aunt.

I smile at her

She smiles back

Time is etched on her face

But behind those eyes

She is ageless.

 

Image credit: Gabriela Camerotti via Flickr (CC)

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