In a Time of Hidden Faces
by Carol A. Stephen
This face, my mask of age, slips south
into my neck, wrinkles drawn down by time
and gravity into folds, creases, wattle.
Still, when youth shines forth in my smile, wrinkles
tighten. Years slip away. Or they did—
Now, a different mask, a swath of black cloth
covers dimples, highlights the slight droop
of lower eyelid under my glasses.
Over my shoulder, masks of the past
stare blank-eyed from the wall, and I remember
those days in Venice, that long-ago night in Rome,
the sweetness of a kiss by the Trevi fountain.
Those kissed lips hide now under my new mask, worn
for your safety. I cannot offer you a grin, but
I offer the people of my world my respect,
expressed by this black band across my face.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: As we all consider social distancing, and that we are all in this fight against COVID-19, I thought also about my collection of carnival masks, displayed on my wall, as well as how our own faces present different masks to the world.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Carol A. Stephen’s poetry appears in Poetry Is Dead, June 2017, and numerous print publications, including Wintergreen Studios chapbooks, Sound Me When I’m Done and Teasing the Tongue. Online poems appear at Silver Birch Press, Topology Magazine, The Light Ekphrastic, and With Painted Words. She won third prize in the CAA National Capital Writing Contest, and was featured in Tree’s Hot Ottawa Voices. She served on the board for Canadian Authors Association-NCR and co-directed Ottawa’s Tree Reading Series. She has five chapbooks, two released in 2018 — Unhook, catkin press, Carleton Place, and Lost Silence of the Small, Local Gems Press, Long Island, NY. In 2019, Winning the Lottery, Surviving Clostridium Difficile was published by Crowe Creations.ca.
Carol, I like the reference to your carnival masks, and enjoyed your poem!
Thanks, Mary. i thought the carnival masks were something to lighten the tone a bit, and so colourful, too!
Yes age is also a mask we wear. And I love how you show our current mask wearing is really a way of caring for and protecting others…family and beyond.
Reblogged this on Quillfyre and commented:
My poem for the Wearing a Mask series on Silver Birch Press.
Ah yes—the masks in our lives. We have a few, too. And now, a few more. Good one, Carol.