Today <br />the mirror from my in-laws’ house, <br />crowned by wrought iron <br />curliqued surround, <br />hangs in my bedroom. <br /> <br /> <br />Through the frame of the looking glass <br />I look towards the past... <br />Bournemouth1976... <br />the Teasmade whirrs and steams <br />as we wake in the guest room, <br />in the bungalow <br />near the prom. <br /> <br />In the mirror <br />we’re reflected, <br />thirty somethings <br />in the seventy-somethings, <br />late developed love. <br /> <br /> <br />I couldn’t tell, in those innocent days, <br />that the reflections would change so <br />would transmute to fragmented images <br />of our shattered promises <br />after the death of his parents <br />after the house clearers left <br />after I saved the mirror <br />from the fate that awaited it.<br /><br />Janice Windle<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ups-and-downs-collection-mirror/
