I stand before the mirror
and it looks back to me
as though time itself
is uncertain which version
of me should appear
I see the woman I was
the one who waited
beneath a waning moon
believing distance
could be crossed by hope
I see the girl before her
the one who loved
without understanding
that love is a creature unto itself
and behind us all
Venus shimmers in reverse
her light sliding across the glass
retrograde is the cosmos
quietly mourning itself
I press my hand to the mirror
watching our fingers fail to meet
my reflection smiles as if she knows
I am only ever chasing
what I’ve already lost
I wonder which of us
is the real illusion
the one watching
or the one still spinning
backward through memories
forever trapped in the orbit
of things that glitter
as they fall away
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 