She stands before the bathroom mirror
Creating several different faces
Tryng to find the one that doesn’t
Make her look so tired and old.
Some of them make her look ill
A couple more look silly.
The one she finally settles on:
A wan and disappointed smile -
Accepted as least ugly of the bunch
It’s not the face she’d hoped to wear
In this the Autumn of her life.
She expected some small trace
Of former beauty to remain.
She tried to make a little sparkle
To liven up her somber eyes
And find the muscle in her cheek
That lifts her lips into a grin.
A sorry rictus of despair
Was all that effort brought her
So she gave up and threw the switch
And slipped away in darkness
ljm
I remember seeing my mother standing in front of the mirror trying different ways of smiling and holding her face.;She wasn't happy about growing older. Hey...neither am I.