Family likeness

One morning

with the sun braving Winter

I sat at my dressing table;

reflective rays shining

from the triple glass.

I toyed with lipstick,

favoured ear-rings,

a spring scarf, gold as daffodils,

then with final flourish -

a heady spray of perfume,

pirouetting vision

across the trinity.

In disbelief I stared

into my Mother’s eyes,

her ear-rings, her scarf,

her surprise mirroring mine.

In shock

we both drew back.

She never came again.