The old man Angelo
He came to cut the looking glass
And he warned me of the danger
If I keep the mirror whole
For when there is a corner
There is a point of weakness
And in a shift
It will crack
For fifty years he told me
He had cut the peoples’ glass
His aching knees climbed stairs too high
Work must be done
And done well
We must keep the mirror whole
A man whose craft was reflected light
The images of ten thousand souls
Who’d watched their lives pass away
And their image growing old
Images of ten thousand spirits
Images of ten thousand souls
Over fifty years hearts can grow weary
And so cold
In the tired frame of Angelo
A flicker still remained
Reflected light in a warm heart
Beating in a heavy chest
A young man’s presence
In an aging frame
In fifty years a heart can grow weary
Fifty years it can grow cold
Over fifty years hearts do grow weary
And so cold
Oh he kept the mirror whole
The old man
Angelo
