Her clothes hang in the half-opened closet
A vibgyor of colors swish by
In the hangers and in a flash
I see her.
Smiling for a picture. Giggling rather.
One arm on a friend’s shoulder and
one hanging loosely by her side.
The frame freezes and so does her smile.
Strange how age passes you by
in pictures. Because the mirror
always lies. It sees the girl with the
frozen smile, hovers over make up
and overlooks the sleepless eyes.
I reach out to the closet to pick out
a shirt. My hand uncertain picks up
a blue. I shut the door and dreams
and look in the mirror.
The girl that I knew isn’t there anymore.
But I am.
P.S. Isn’t it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back everything is different?-C.S. Lewis