She looked deep
deep into the mirror
to where her mother lived.
Inside her fading hair
from where that ghost slept
reflections stirred
as if she heard an echo
laugh into eyes
that list their way
long ago before her self
wobbled step after step
away from a haunting house.
She looked deeper now
past the past
into the conundrum of being.
It would soon be time
for her to teach
the metaphysics of daily repentance.
From Bath to Cork with baby Grace 