Expecting only black.
I looked, and startled, looked again:
Someone was looking back!
He looked so rumpled and distressed,
A shifty midnight toad;
He must have stumbled, badly dressed,
Up from the open road.
His clothes looked like he dressed for bed,
All shapeless, loose, and marred;
But went out for a walk instead,
And crept into my yard.
His face was haggard, wrinkled, pale,
His eyes were open wide;
As if he had escaped from jail,
And should have stayed inside.
His hair twas thin as wispy mist,
His teeth were mostly gone.
His ears looked as if someone missed
Their mark, when gluing on.
His cheeks had plenty of stubble,
As if he had not shaved.
He looked as though he'd be trouble,
In fact, he looked depraved!
In but a single, quick heartbeat,
I judged him savagely.
Then recognized the old deadbeat:
A reflection of me.
Mick McKellar
September 2017
As I get older, and mirrors
Become less and less kind,
Snap judgments become fewer
As I am not inclined...
Mick
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