vanity, vanity

it came to me, after i wrote yesterday that mirrors aren't only the stuff of looking glasses. and that this blog, this portal, this space, these poems where i come and pour out my secrets and thoughts are, in fact, mirrors. and i do spend time gazing into them. contemplating them, chewing the cud. so that begs the question, what is vanity?

i'm not sure. certainly there are beautiful people, the stop traffic gorgeous whom we all stare at, is it external only?

my boss caught me looking at my red converse in a plate glass window once while we were out on the street,

stop looking at yourself,

he said.

so there it is, i look. i like what i see lately. hell, i even bought a mirror to watch. and the tremor is coming along nicely. it's such a delicate quiver, it reminds me of leaves on breezy day. just a gentle rustling really.

look at the tremor,

i told my girl.

i've seen one mom, i know what an earth quake is.

no, look at my hips,

i told her.

she was most unimpressed. (she thinks i'm weird, or perhaps knows it for fact.)

so we drove, far into the country, passing all manner of bird and beast, some of them glimpsed where their journey ended in the middle of the road, so sad to see. but i am taken by how gently the snowflakes fall and the stallion paws the ground while grazing, delicately. i can run my hand along his chiseled flanks, and he does not budge, does not object, why? because i think all we, any of us really want is someone to uncinch the gate. to help us get to that foraging ground just beyond reach. to help us experience full for a moment. to stand beside us and untangle the lead, then to lead us back to safety and tuck us in for the night.

they were rambunctious today, it was crisp and my girl didn't have her jacket. but the mom in me was prepared and we managed to scrounge up enough to keep the cold at bay for a moment.

i drove with her at my side, just like i slept with her at my side, and it was nice to have someone there, to throw my arm across, to draw close to when the chill of night set in. i'm tired of the cold.

i think that's what i am looking over the pasture fence for too, someone to uncinch the gate.