Almost scratch

My apologies for the extended absence. Paid work has been taking up all my time. On that subject, here’s a new poem.



The woman

reflected in a window

long ago

Polished to a high sheen she

was misplaced, miscast


Time throws dust on

our mirages

Strips them of altered life

and the tease of



Where does

that leave our

Woman in the Glass

She of the

New Image


Too tired to push

like Sisyphus

against an




Facebook poster platitudes

never let up on

an insecure number

like her

Cycling away in endless optimism


But those who make

plenty of green on

their efforts

know who the

Real Artists are


The rest of us



guru Twitter feed We

keep our reflections polished.




Tell me, tell me.