Watery spots
cover the mirror
hazy image
he wipes
in the shade
can't hide
the rotting ripeness
blocked off or picked up by sun
resurrect gloom
buried in the face
It is easy to put gloominess, but why is it gloomy? Will the gloom a perspective of the gathering storm to dawn upon seconded by thunder and lightening? A pantomime presentation is it with age and time, face and growing into years. The aged man too in the Bermuda shorts and the vest looks like the golden boy of sixteen, handsome, slim-figured while jogging in the morning and with the golden glasses, red rimmed. Perhaps the author is one like who is marking his own face in the gloom.
