Mirror Tricks

At seven you were a child prodigy,
At seventeen you had the world by the tail.

The poet had no reason to be then,
the stuff of poems was in the making, and
the wind was nothing to fear.

The day the old man appeared where once you stood,
the mirror cracked with laughter
at the trick it had played.

But child prodigies grow old too soon, and
the wind is terror in the night.

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