One was beautiful, silken hair to her waist
and dutiful, kept it neatly in place.
Please and Thanks were words she’d use.
Cleared up the dishes, polished her shoes.
One was wild, a mop of woolly tresses,
Barefoot, grubby, never wore dresses.
Snot on her sleeve, she spat and swore
ranted and raged, then slammed the door.
They stared at each other, the same green eyes
and what they saw they recognised.
You’re me! Said the first How do you do?
Watch out! Said the other I’m You.
From The Language of Cat.
- thinking about who you see in the mirror – does it give a reflection of who you think you are?
- thinking about what questions you would like to ask after reading this poem.