by Mary E. Lowd
Why can’t I see through my eyes anymore?
I look at my daughter
And I see my eyes
—I see myself—
More clearly
So much more clearly
In her youthful face
Than I see myself
In the older, rounder face
That stares, confused, at me
When I look in the mirror
I am young like her
Undaunted, unchanged
By the harsh realities
Of a world that sometimes hates us
Just for being
And being unafraid
But the face in the mirror has changed
Been changed
By the harshness of the world
I look at my daughter
And I see my eyes
In her face
But I can’t see out through them anymore
I can only see them
And dream of what they’re seeing
As the world gets older
And younger
Around us
And we
Get older too