MOTHER STARED BACK AT ME

[A Villanelle]

I stood before beauty.
Eyes locked to my own, walls down—
Mother stared back at me.

To the pride of the old man’s legacy,
I bent my head down, curtsied—
I stood before beauty.

I heard what she had to say.
Words pooled in those big brown eyes—
Mother stared back at me.

Pearl in the hearts of many;
I wondered if I’d be anything like her—
I stood before beauty.

It was not the fine lines that made me look away;
’twas the immortal echo of years past—
Mother stared back at me.

In this 50-year old window, she’d often summon me,
And the words cowered each time we gazed—
I stood before beauty,
Mother stared back at me.

© Gheeneil

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