(© Words and music by Paul F. Cowlan)
This is a Spencerian sonnet, written while waiting in the dentistís chair. No, I don't very often compose in this setting.
I am your mirror. When you move away
the world goes blank. I am an empty space.
I cherish confidences, and betray
no blush, no tear. The contours of your face
are all I am, or can be. When you place
a finger on your lip I imitate
your softest touch, blending the light to trace
each outline. Faithfully I duplicate
your moods. A second self, I am each state
of mind, reflecting sadness, joy or pain.
Unasked, I live and die with you. My fate
is yours. Without you, how could I remain?
That said, the very instant you are gone
Iíll be this intimate with anyone.