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Infinite Glass
larrylark

When I was small I used to creep
 1
along the wall into my parents' bedroom;
 2
past tallboy containing feather boa,
 3
cummerbund, velvet bow-tie,
 4
dinner suit with ribbon stripes.
 5
 
 
Perched above walnut-stained dressing table
 6
and powder-dusted rug, already heirloomed,
 7
stood a mirror whose movable side pieces
 8
eased into positions, maneuvered in gloomy light
 9
to cast a thousand selves into infinity.
 10
 
 
My parents now, are old, and I
 11
am catching them up.
 12
Life does not endure forever
 13
like moments which last no longer
 14
than those reflections in the mirror.
 15

16 Jun 07

Rated 9 (9) by 3 users.
Active (3): 8, 9, 10
Inactive (0):

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Comments:

you seem to shift point of view in the second stanza, as compared to the first and the last. i like that.

great poem. great work. i wish i could say more but more have i not. you seriously got it right, i wouldn't add another word and i wouldn't even rearrange anything.

well ... a small suggestion: with a title such as Infinite Glass, i would (expect?) another version of this poem, one more mystical, as Infinite Glass is such a fine idea that i wouldn't expect this idea to stop here, perhaps you could apply it to other things ... ?

i like this, anyway.
 — listen

I like this very much - it has a certain mystery in the images and I like the shift from youth to age - i recently read a Heaney poem in which he used the same technique to great effect; very good.
 — opal

Hi larry

a reflective poem.Are you the fairest of them all?
 — Leanan

This begins so well, but becomes trite at the end with the cliched talk about the mirror at the end.  It's just so fabulous that to talk about "lasting reflections" in the mirror is a HUGE let down.  Can you rework the ending?  The first part of this poem is SO worth fixing the ending.  Please trust me on this.
 — aforbing

interesting feel to this poem
 — Poetry

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