Facing up to it

Trying not to make eye contact
with the young man in the next stall.
A bit sloshed, I think, like me.
Keeps glancing at me and smiling.
Somewhat alarming, especially
as he followed me into the gents.
Noticed him earlier, peering into
my 65th birthday party
in the restaurant’s private room.
Perhaps he’s vaguely familiar,
have I seen him somewhere before?
Our eyes do finally meet in the mirror,
rinsing hands in adjoining wash basins.
“Having a good birthday?” he enquires.
“It’s my birthday, too, you know.”

Suddenly remember my 21st birthday
all those years ago at university,
lying around in the small hours
as the party subsided,
a group of zonked-out friends
discussing hopes for the future.

“Can we sit down for a chat? I’d love
to hear how the last 44 years have gone”
“Well… it’s a long story,” I begin.

But he’s fading like the Cheshire Cat.
Soon only the fresh face remains,
topped by a full head of hair,
eyes so full of enthusiasm.
Then just that eager smile
until it too dissolves,
leaving me staring into the mirror
at my 65 year-old self.

4 responses

  1. Love the way the poem expands then dissolves into that final stanza. It’s possible that the poem really starts at Line 7:

    ‘Noticed him earlier, peering into
    my 65th birthday party’

    would make a very intriguing start to the poem. Great stuff.

  2. Thank you Robbie and Di for your comments about the opening 6 lines. They do have some point, in my mind at least. It’s (slightly) humorous, it establishes the scene looking in the mirror and it makes the point that we are often reluctant to face up to the past – particularly if our lives may not have turned out as brilliantly as our younger selves might have hoped!

  3. the way you don’t tell us much about you as a 65 year old – but use something in your past to highlight it is a great example of poetry showing instead of telling (and I might get corrected now I have said that) – but it is a great technique which I might have to borrow and try – so thanks

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