Quiet Reverie
Regret and hurt... Story-like prose. Different from my usual poetry.
She dipped her head in the water
as she washed the cleanser from her skin.
This.
This was a real highlight of her day.
That one moment,
one minute of solitude, she would have
before the onslaught of the day
swept her off her feet.
Then…
Then she would not stop
until the end of the day.
Soon,
once dried and moisturized,
she would be dealing with
the noise and craziness
of Chloe, Martin, and Chelsea
as they all got ready for school,
while seeing off Timothy
as he headed out for work.
Patting her face dry,
she turns —
eyeing herself up in the mirror.
Her reflected visage staring back —
full of love and gratitude.
Nothing could take those away,
but there was more —
behind her eyes.
She felt it,
in the pit of her stomach.
As the gaze of her mirror self
stared —
She felt those regrets.
The regrets we all have,
that come with living life
not always for oneself
because we can’t.
Not always.
Regrets and guilt —
perfect bedfellows in the mind.
A small droplet, a salty tear
formed
in the corner of her left eye.
Her hands tracing
the unseen stretchmarks maps
across her belly, across the ache
in the pit of her stomach.
She was proud —
Proud of her motherhood
Proud of her marriage
These regrets were not —
not about any of that.
But a lump in her throat
formed as she thought
about how her throat
had long been used
as a vessel
not for arias or ballads
but for dinner calls,
Sports Day cheers
and twilight,
groans and moans.
She thinks,
as so often she does,
Michelle —
the mother, the wife
the daughter, the lover
the organiser, the accountant —
about the paths she took
and the paths she avoided.
She imagines
dipping her face
back into the water
again.
Wondering if she could
hold eternal the longing —
But stops fast
from dipping her face,
as contentment returns.
The sense of fulfilment
not in what could have been
no, in what was and is.
As from behind the door
Chloe calls out
she responds
sharing a smile
with her proud mirror visage.
*
Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: This is a slightly different approach to poetry than I have usually taken, as it's not autobiographical. I appreciate, as ever, all reads, likes, and comments. Anyway, I have a few poems to share to tide things over while I work on things outside of Vocal.
This was originally published on Medium through the publication Catharsis Chronicles on April 7th, 2025, which you can check out through the link below.
Here are some other things:
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!
Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!
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Comments (10)
Not everyone can so giftedly put themselves in another person's shoes and communicate something so essential to them to the world. Quite a display of empathy and understanding of complex human emotions all anchored in such a simple but gripping scene! Hats off to you! If this was an experiment, consider it a success!
A moment in a mother's morning routine caught so poetically, Paul <3
The raw truth of this, Paul. So well put. <3
Beautifully poignant, Paul.
This felt like a moment of my life, something every mother can be relate to. You captured the emotion so well and wove your words with such grace and beauty.
I loved the intimate truth in this!
Paul, I am writing a story if just this, the mirror is powerful and reveals so much as one stares into it and reviews their life. This may vary from your normal style, yet it holds a powerful grip upon the reader.
The story you tell leaves a feeling of overall contentment, but yet, there's an unmistakable sense of loss for what could have been. I truly enjoyed this. Well done, buddy.
Got danggumit this was fantastic my friend. Some of your best work, really
This was stunning, Paul. So raw and visceral, with humanity stripped bare.