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The Lady in the Mirror
by Betty Cessna, April, 2000

When I look in my mirror

It surprises me to see

That it is someone else's face

That's looking back at me.

She looks a bit familiar,

Like we've met, somehow, somewhere,

There're wrinkles in her weathered face,

And silver in her hair.

She must be someone that I met

When I was very small,

Perhaps she was my grandma's friend..

Someone I can't recall.

I know this lady's pretty old,

She doesn't look that wise,

But I can see her laugh lines,

And the twinkle in her eyes.

I'm getting sort of used to her,

She's always there, you see,

I think I'd like her, as a friend,

But she's too old for me.

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