Self Portrait (Poetry)

I look at me and sometimes I see you —
the seed, the bud, the blossom and the husk —
my other self imagined somehow grew
then disappeared into unmeasured dusk.

I often catch that fleeting sideways glance —
a glimpse of who I was — a trick of light
yet when I focus — cast my eyes askance —
the ghost is gone — retreated into night.

Deep in my eyes I see your shadow move —
a flicker of the youth that slipped away
though memory rejects what time will prove
I rage against those changes every day.

The dream is caught — locked somewhere dark inside —
the child is there — the shy and awkward teen —
each stage of life gone through yet barely tried
before the years closed off all roads between.

Now Youth is trapped in Age’s weathered shell
and I’m a girl in fifty-something’s clothes —
my mirror-face pretends that all is well
just now and then I miss you — and it shows.