Mirror

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful ‚
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

by Sylvia Plath

Comments (4)

nicely made a lovely chick There was I, a solitary figure, Alone on the top of the downs: With all of the clouds astir And far from any town - The sea in the distance A single grey line, How I felt, how I saw those views So fine
Dear Philippa, A truly breathless adventure. I don't want to spoil it, in my quest for ambitious display of my literary prowess, which thankfully fails me now. Phillip
Great poem. Very atmospheric. Nothing like the exhilaration of being alone out in the hills!
I enjoyed this too, though the mitre mite nead some tweaking here and there. Fantastic effort for one so young.