Well, here I am in front
of you and what do you see?

I cannot see me except in a mirror,
real and metaphorical,
though a mirror gives an
image not exactly truth.

And when I look in the mirror
I see an old bugger getting older,
and pushing back at life,
and understanding the time
he has left and what he
still wants to do.

I see a person happy but
struggling with his own biases,
fears, and prejudices too,
and playing games for others
that are not exactly authenticity.

What language and categories
would you apply to
this man standing in front
of the mirror?

How will you understand him
and his shifting truth?
Where will you place him in
the sectional groups of humankind?

I place myself no where but
in front of a mirror looking
back at myself in contentment,
in horror and in surprise.

But are these two dimensions,
sufficient to capture who I am?
Would this still image do justice
to a moving man?

 

17/8/2023