The Looking Glass

Janet Gordon
Copyright © 1999 Janet Gordon
Last Modified: November 1, 2001

My head hurt as if my hair was tied in a thousand tiny tight pony tails.  My technician in the radiation department suggested I have someone cut my hair and it would relieve the pressure.  That night my husband and daughter tried to make lite while my husband cut my hair. I cried as each snip of hair hit the floor and then when it was over I stared at myself in the mirror and this is what I saw.

I place my hand upon my head

and look into the glass

a pale, frail forlorn soul

curiously stares back

and when I tilt my head a bit

she mimics what I do

she peers intensely back at me

?My God, I wonder who??

She has no hair and cannot grin

blue eyes did fade to gray

but still she mimics every move

I wish she?d go away.


And after it was over and I started to face the reality of life and decided to live in a moment  things began to speak to me.  I would get up in the middle of the night to write and to purge all the fear and horror of cancer.


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