12 JANUARY 1962, Page 21

A Chinese Superstition

One mirror was left bare.

He glimpsed himself in passing; Gravity drew him down.

A face he saw the face you'd said You loved. Not the face he used to shave.

Easy to save himself from that—

But this was yours.

Expressions you had mentioned Crossed the naked mirror.

With them, the emotions he remembered

He had known. Memory—

A candle's flame, a nearer star.

Glass-bound, he hovered, His flight to Heaven all forgotten.

They should have pasted paper On that naked mirror. Left nothing To hold him back from Heaven. Just a large X of pasted paper ---A misplaced kiss, a crossing out— To send him shuddering on his flight 'I‘o all-forgetting Heaven.

D. J. ENICK1F11