WITHIN my mirror I could see
Last night as I gazed steadfastly
An old strange thing look out at me;
The smile my grandame used to wear;
Line on proud line it faced me there . . .
I had not known it meant Despair.
WITHIN my mirror I could see
Last night as I gazed steadfastly
An old strange thing look out at me;
The smile my grandame used to wear;
Line on proud line it faced me there . . .
I had not known it meant Despair.
© Margaret Widdemer