Who is that elderly lady in the mirror
I don’t recognize her one bit
She doesn’t remotely resemble me
My mother or even some older version of me
She visits and says not a word
Like trapped on the other side
Without a voice
She simply glares at me
And looks equally surprised
Her eyes seem dull and tired
Her traits drawn and droopy
Her wrinkles punctuate her traits
Still she never says a peep
She seems to have a message for me
Being ever so hesitant
As though she may be waiting
For me to make the first move