P3310265 - Version 2
Looking Glass Menagerie

I am trying to escape the menagerie—
all those selves I hold in front of me
as well as the ones I have let escape.
Those that run ahead—
the ones that are my future selves—
are here, hidden in the portrait that you see.
Domineering, perhaps. But seasoned with
an awareness of what might have created
all of the parts of myself I try to reign in.
This has produced a certain slowness to connect.
The natural is seasoned with a desire to honor dreams
of what I hope to be. When I look in the mirror,
I see them all: my mother and my grandmother
and my sisters. We demand, are stubborn.
Sometime we are martyrs, stifling tears.
Then suddenly, I pass them by like memories
of nightmares: all the anxiety attacks,
illnesses and heartbreak.
We are all wonderful performers,
using bad luck to fuel good.
The belles of our own ball,
we push back the grim news
of what we fear we really are.
Headstrong, we reach for what we can be.
Utterly addicted to change,
Tony or no Tony,
we are the stars of our own lives.

This is a poem I wrote a year and a half ago. (In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall.”)

7 thoughts on “Looking Glass Menagerie”

    1. lifelessons's avatarlifelessons Post author

      Hi Ann! I’m glad you enjoyed it. The picture is of my niece who came to visit me in Mexico a few years ago. We took this in an antique store that had this weird lens! Thanks for reading and commenting!

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    1. lifelessons's avatarlifelessons Post author

      I have had that happen three times before–but with three different people: my sister, one of my best friends and my husband. I could see their faces shifting back and back through dozens of other faces–all them, but different people, ages and sexes. So strange.

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