in the bathroom mirror, glowing with a persistent light.
The skin gains a halo, a quality that almost seems
religious, as a self-portrait by Schiele, reds and greens
accenting the lines of the form, a figure framed in self
reflection, in the blur of early hours, when time
becomes an old man fumbling with his money belt,
with his pockets, he clowns around as if he has quarters, dimes
to pick among as he stands in doors of buses, bellowing
about his poor health, his age, bad eyes. Help him
move along, forward into the evening—
without full closure, he shifts from under the leaves
of evening, light motioning from mirrors, the hour easing—
Residing in Cypress, Texas with his partner of ten years, David-Glen Smith teaches English Literature at Lone Star College – CyFair. He received his MFA at Vermont College, and his MA at the University of MO at St. Louis. Currently, he and his partner have welcomed a baby boy into their lives. For more information visit: http://davidglensmith.blogspot.com/.