O Magic Mirror on the Wall, Deliver Us from This World's Thrall
I recently came across this old poem of mine from the mid-1980s and wondered if two of the main characters in Martin Seay's novel The Mirror Thief - Stanley Glass and Vettor Crivano - would suspect a secret message within:
Maybe it holds the answer to their question, the object of their quest, the conjunction in their que. But probably none of these. The poem's only about a moment in San Francisco when a friend and I were looking through shelves of items in an antique store, and my friend tried on a pair of old glasses and gazed into a nearby antique mirror.You look upon the world with antique eyes,Souvenirs
through intense lens, with more than innocence,
but only in this moment circumscribed
by shelves and shelves of other people's lives.
Let's peer into this mirror, you and I,
clear through the old and darkened glass. What past
perhaps reflects obscurely back on one
behind the silver-surfaced other side,
who gazes here with solemn, antique eyes?
I stood back in appreciation and watched her looking at her antique self, and this poem came to me . . .
Labels: Literary Criticism