The Mirror

by Noble K. Thomas

The mirror in the hallway,
At the foot of the stairs.

You were on that glass,
Inspecting, smiling,

But mainly inspecting.

Yet most times you would just walk on by
And unsuspecting it would grab your reflection
As you hurried straight across.

You were on that glass,
Your carefree visage glimmered and sparkled
On those beautiful ordinary days.

And now you are gone
And there is no echo, no faded image,

The glass only reflects the present light,
The mirror only respects that moment’s truth.

This man with the deep sorrow in his eyes.

I wish that I could take it down
And climb to the highest mountain
And attach it to the highest pole
And point it toward the brightest star,
In hopes of by chance capturing your return.

And I suppose I could try but I won’t,
There remains only this ---

The mirror still hangs on the wall
Where your lovely hands

Once tenderly placed it.