in the mirror he appears to be on fire

As simply as a self-effacing bar of soap 

escaping by indiscernible degrees in the wash water 

is how a man may change 

and still hour by hour continue in his job. 

There in the mirror he appears to be on fire 

but here at the office he is dust. 

So long as there remains a little moisture in the stains, 

he stands easily on the pavement 

and moves fluidly through the corridors. If only one 

cloud can be seen, it is enough to know of others, 

and life stands on the brink. It rains 

or it doesn’t, or it rains and it rains again. 

But let it go on raining for forty days and nights 

or let the sun bake the ground for as long, 

and it isn’t life, just life, anymore, it’s living. 

In the meantime, in the regular weather of ordinary days, 

it sometimes happens that a man has changed 

so slowly that he slips away 

before anyone notices 

and lives and dies before anyone can find out. 

 

[Marvin Bell {1937-2020} 'A Man May Change', from Iris of Creation: Poems]