Mirror image

Experience has taught me, when I am shaving of a morning, to keep watch over my thoughts, because, if a line of poetry strays into my memory, my skin bristles so that the razor ceases to act. -- A. E. Housman,``The Name and Nature of Poetry'' I, too, of morning habit, slip, betimes, to keep the watch. My basin mirror twins the window on my right, and as I shave, I keep a cautious eye on both: the weather of the soul and of the sky. The razor burrs a tonic song of such mechanic art -- it never ceases to act. Only the blue-speckled morning sings such lines to the gaunt-cheeked elm outside that the wind loses its cutting edge. Spring-rapt, I see green bristles -- sudden warning -- of the poem inside the tree.

About these ads
Sponsored Content by LockerDome

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...

Save for later

Save
Cancel

Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items

OK