When I look into the mirror now

I see my mother’s face,

the glimpse startles me,

I am uneasy with the brush of time,

Are we shadows of each other?

From the cradle of her time,

the bitterness eludes me

I feel her kindness

her lovingness flowing

out to me and mine.

This poem appears in The Myth of The Yellow Kitchen, a memoire about discovering life in the wake of an unexpected divorce.