That Old Man Hiding in My Mirror

Old man's hand

Photo by lucasmalta; via morgueFile

© 2013 Rick Hardman

The glaring light from the string of bulbs above the mirror does me no favours.
Apparently, I combed my hair with an egg beater this morning.
But, at least I have hair,
My one small victory.
Though who is that stranger in front of me?
My evil twin?
Wrinkles, they must be contagious
I need to stop hanging out with old cantankerous curmudgeons
I’ve caught the virus
Wait! They must be laugh lines
I’m obviously a very funny fellow.

Rick, were you laughing when you sent this to me? You were right to think I would delight in it. In fact, I went straight to the mirror and decided I must be a very funny woman. Thanks for putting some fun into aging.

Seated old man

Any of us with life carved on our faces can understand this poem viscerally. The “Seated old man” from Leonardo Da Vinci gives me a hunch every generation experiences it anew. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

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5 comments for “That Old Man Hiding in My Mirror

  1. February 19, 2013 at 4:24 pm

    Is it weird that I think of you as a fellow 20-something? 🙂

    I think age becomes much less important online. What really matters are your ideas and how well you express them.

  2. February 19, 2013 at 4:49 pm

    I feel a blog post coming on…;-)

    Age, gender, social status, country – it all slips into the background in the online world, at least with people who feel as if they’re on a similar wave length. I always smile when I see your name appear.

  3. Sterlibg Haynes
    February 19, 2013 at 6:04 pm

    Great poem. Have to get my egg beater fixed.

  4. February 20, 2013 at 8:15 am

    Thank you, Cathryn.

    I look forward to reading that blog post.

  5. February 20, 2013 at 10:20 am

    I love this!

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