The Mirror Between Us


This morning she peered out at me from the mirror, my sister, dead:

but as she had looked in top health, many years before,

wearing a silver locket that matched her silver hair

(I wonder if she lives in the silver lining of clouds),

and I noted again that she was lovely,

the same nose I have, the same deep-set eyes,

and just like me, quick to smile; and I spoke fast,

knowing her image would soon fade,

I told her I missed her, I told her how much I loved

her kids and grandkids, and I thanked her for visiting

again to remind me of our sweet connection.

I said to her, My writing, see what I have done,

I have tried to sort out who we all are.

And her eyes warmed just before she vanished.