Who’s that stranger in the mirror
I’m sure we’ve not been introduced
Tho she seems somewhat familiar
I don’t know her, to tell the truth
Has to be someone’s grandmother
With graying hair and sagging skin
Bristly eyebrows meet each other
Crow’s-feet, wrinkles, and double chin
No surprise she doesn’t linger
At the mirror in the hall
She’s no longer a dead ringer
Of her photograph on the wall
I would never be judgmental
For I’m sure I’d do the same
Should time be to me so cruel
That like her image I became
All at once I’m disconcerted
By the strange person that I see
Quickly turning, eyes averted
I realize that person’s me.