I stare, in a daze.

The face which returns my gaze

is a future phase.

*

Sparse hair, white not black;

glaucous eyes which sparkle lack;

mouth a shrivelled crack.

*

Now the image fades.

The ghost no longer upbraids.

The mirror upgrades.

*

Back in normal time.

I’ve seen the end of the line.

Chills run up my spine.

*

I choke back my fear.

The message is loud and clear.

Live healthy next year.