Different Outlooks

Different Outlooks


She laughed.  A bitter,
Strangled sound,
Then turned her face once more
Towards it’s pale reflection.
No longer a pleasing sight.
Long gone the rosy bloom of youth.
Overtaken now by the passing of time.
A face etched with the wear and tear
Of living.
Each line a paragraph in her sorry tale.



She laughed.  A joyous
Reverberation of happiness
As she confronted her reflection
In the glass.
No longer there, the rosy bloom of youth.
Instead the wisdom of age
And experience smiled back at her.
Bright eyes shining, each line and wrinkle
Affirmation of a life
Lived to the full.