Poetry and Photography of

The Bathroom Mirror

In the bathroom mirror stands a naked man

Fresh from a morning shower

Drops of water still glistening on his shoulder

Waiting for the towel at his side

The corners of his lips curl upward in a grin

While a hand comes forward with index finger pointed at the reflection

A smiling voice within says “I like you!”

Interrupting the silence that is meant only for one

The gesture imparts a feeling good enough to bear repeating

And so again he says, “I like you!”

The emphasis on the word “like” has greater intensity and

The reflection seems to be more sincere in its expression of the thought the second time around

It is gratifying to know that the first person you meet in the morning

Has a warm feeling for you

And a willingness to accept you just the way you are

Knowing everything that’s come before

Is My Tea Kettle Too Old?

 

Tarnished and streaked, the kettle sits on top of the stove

Ready to serve when asked

Churning the water to a boil

Sounding the whistle as steam blasts through the hole in the lid

Sometimes dutifully calling for minutes

As its master hears but does not come

How do I judge you, old kettle?

The job for which you were designed is still performed well

But newer shinier models beckon to me from store ads

Offering perfection and beauty

While you are a faded beauty from the past who cannot compare

Your whistle is still strong and the feel of your handle is taken for granted through habit

Shall I keep you or toss you aside?

You are a thing and I am a person

But I am accustomed to your face and the way you perform under pressure

You shall remain

Soup

Oh, you tasty liquid in a bowl

Steaming with the anticipation of a spoon

Breaking the surface tension and

Scooping up a small pool then rising to waiting lips

Pursed to funnel an inhaled breath upon you,

To cool you for the comfort of mouth and tongue

And the quick swallow which carries your nourishment

To the cavern below

What a simple miracle you are,

The distillation of animal and vegetable

Cooked in a pot over time

But dependent on the skill of the chef

For the judgment made of your goodness,

Taken for granted and

Diminished in the public mind by the casual

Nature of your appearance

Let us give you the honor and the glory you deserve as you become a Fleeting thought for restaurant patrons comparing you to

Salad in the making of a lesser choice before the entrée

Let us praise your name as we retrieve a can from the shelf

And release you to be heated and eaten

Let us take pride as we gather leftovers to make a

Uniquely original recipe from scratch,

For you are soup, there is no other like you, with crackers or without