I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

10 April 2010

Portrait of the Poet as an Old Woman

Do you think she wears all those rings
to hide her knobbly knuckles and liver spots,
or just because she loves them?
They are so many, and so ornate.

And that hair, between pink and purple,
what’s with that? Doesn’t she know she’s old?
But people in the street yell that they love it,
which straightens her back and lightens her step.

Her funny little face is more and more like
her mother’s was in age; this appears
to disconcert her. Regarding herself in the mirror,
her expression is horrified, then resigned.

When we look at our own faces,
do we see them true? Perhaps we see
what we expect or fear. It is always done
self-consciously. How can the soul show through?

April PAD Challenge 9 

Prompt: Self-portrait

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