by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Yesterday
I caught a glimpse
of my reflection
in a window,
an old, white-haired person
I did not recognize.
But the person
inside,
an ageless bell,
leapt like the hare
we saw this morning on our walk
far above our heads
and sent its
resonance of rapture
out across
the snow-covered mountains
as the wind
began to shape it.
beautiful
Ethel this is simply beautiful!
AndI can relate to it in so very many ways too. š
Love
Christine xx
Wonderful
I can so well recognise the person at the heart of this poem *wry smile*
David
I liked the whole thing, particularly the play on the word “bell”. š
I realized I was getting older when the woman looking back at me from my mirror was my mother. She was an amazing woman who raised her three children with love, compassion, wisdom and wisdom.
This is so very lovely. Thank you Ethel.
Wonderful, Ethel–when I look in the mirror, I know I’m so much more than what I see there. Love, Caddo
Ah, yes
You are still my beautiful mom forever!
An ageless bell, indeed! Beautiful.
Ethel, I love this and can relate to it! We’re ageless, playful spirits on the inside, no matter what the mirror reflects.
Ban all reflective surfaces, as per Queen Elizabeth’s edict…
These are great comments. Thank you all! Ethel
Exactly so!
And the “e” at the end. You are too modest, Ethel. š