In the mirror

I saw my face in the mirror, in passing,
and it was someone else.

I didn’t recognize the eyes, or the hair, or the point of the nose.
But that wasn’t it, because I never do.

There was something different.
A light,
a candle flame,
that used to flicker.

It was gone.

I stopped to stare,
and perhaps to talk awhile,
of memories and good times yet to come,
but he had no words for me.

Only the cold silence of the glass.

— ptkh 4/28/13

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