Mirrors

“Dad, do you see something here on my face?”
A young daughter asked of her dad.
“Two eyes, mouth and nose,” he replied, and I thought,
For an impromptu answer, not bad.

“No, anything else?” the girl questioned again,
As I listened to their dialogue.
“Well, actually, yes, I do see something else,”
The father responded – “A frog!”

His daughter then giggled, but soon settled down
And repeated her query once more.
She explained what she meant – was there food on her face?
He said back, “That’s what mirrors are for.”

But to me it was plain as an unseeded rye
That she had all the mirror she needed;
And that dad should be glad for in no time at all
His reflection will be superseded.

Too fast she’ll grow up and she won’t want to know
What he sees when he looks at her face.
A mirror is only the first thing she’ll use
To usurp what he thought was his place.

But I kept my mouth shut – let them live in the now
And enjoy their connection, so sweet;
‘Cause years from now they won’t remember at all
How they once made each other complete.