BODY Image Poem: LOOKING INTO THE MIRROR THESE DAYS, by Russell Chamberlain

Curious, I watched Time arrive,
unpacking their belongings and picking out a room.
It was apparent that they intended to stay for a while.
I could not remember inviting them
or even receiving a courtesy knock,
much less a call.
I gazed at the bags both held and under the eyes,
shadows resembling bruises from a fight.
The deep lines were there, and the hair, fading colors,
was replaced by peppered white, washed out like the days.
I wondered what would come next,
with lines crisscrossing and intersecting paths
through this life, this body, this soul.
I thought again, had Time given notice.
No, it was simply here and would not leave.
I did not want to become weak or lose what I had.
Holding on to everything forever seemed impossible
as muscles atrophy and bones become brittle.
I may have forgotten what I was doing here,
and I couldn’t read these lines without my glasses;
a squinting blur is all I know now.
However, my papery skin showed a faint recognition
as I returned to my guest with new cells every seven years.
Is this person a doppelganger
or just the latest clone inhabiting my form, looking back at me?
I walk past the guest room
and check in from time to time.
This guest will never leave me.