Again

In the bathroom mirror there lives a lady
I see sometimes when I brush my hair.
She has my mother's face, her aloneness.
Sometimes I ask her  Are you ready for this
fight, are you strong?  
Strongly afraid, she replies
and I reach to touch her cheek, stop just short
when I realize she is gone - again -
and I walk out of the bathroom
into the day.


Anne Curtin