Original Face
(Continued from Page 1)
wet rooftops at the base of the mountain.
No splayed breasts, no glaring teeth, appear before me.
Only the ivory hands of morning touching
the real face in the real mirror on my bureau.
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MYSLATE
Henri Cole's most recent book is Touch, which received the Jackson Poetry Prize. He teaches at Ohio State University.
Clickhere to visit Robert Pinsky's Favorite Poem Project site.To submit poetry to Slate, send up to five poems and a self-addressed, stamped envelope to: Robert Pinsky, Slate Magazine, Boston University, 236 Bay State Road, Boston, MA, 02215.
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