Destin ou Provenance
                 ?

First thing a man stops
doing when he begins
to get depressed is he
abandons the ablutions.

The three O’Clock
shadow matures into a
stubble then a beard.

By hiding ones self there
is no need to-see the
reflection, It is foetal time.

Rooms darken, minds dim.

But as in nearly all cases
a rude renaissance occurs.

There is the inevitable baulk of
looking in the silver lined glass
frame without a picture, and
preparing to rejoin the world.

The hot tap is engaged, there
is a rummage around for a BIC.

By the time we are finally
ready to confront ourselves



               (‘>    [#]



                  The mirror
                         has
                 misted over!