Upon Reflection

Photo by Brad Lloyd on Unsplash

Locked out after Letterman,
hesitant to knock,
I tried to find my keys
while my boyfriend backed out
from our driveway.
Headlights shone on
our side window
reflecting my face
superimposed upon yours
through the glass
as you let me in.

I saw at that instant
how I might look in
twenty years: older, tired,
wrinkled, shorter,
wearing a ratty robe,
sheen from moisturizer
dampening my face.
You smiled and hugged me
and returned to your bed.

At this instant
I am following you:
imprinting myself,
gosling to goose,
just as my face had
on that windowpane.
Grateful as I open my door,
that my child is home safe
regardless of the hour.
May I wear this grace
as comfortably as you
wore that ratty robe.

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