THE REFLECTION

Some observant folk thought my grandfather Joe 

Was a vampire because his reflection usually arrived

A few minutes after Joe had passed by. Reflected Joe 

Would shake his head in disgust or shrug.

Folks were surprised to see in the mirror

The frowsy image of a man who'd left the room.

I imagine the two had once been indistinguishable 

But while Joe remained upright and dapper

His reflection grew his hair long and wore

Old clothes,with cigarette holes burnt in them.

At Joe's funeral, his reflection suddenly appeared,

Red-eyed and distraught, in the tiny mirror

Of my Great-Aunt Mabel's face-powder compact

Until she closed it with a snap.