A speaker hurries up from a boat, eager to calm someone who has been anxious about her return. In that rush, she catches sight of a reflection in a round metal mirror: a woman’s face and hands arranging her hair. The moment is small but full of quiet strangeness. She has been thinking of the person waiting for her, yet the mirror stops her and shows her another version of herself—composed, absorbed, feminine, alone. The urgency of arrival meets an image of ordinary self-possession. The mood is suspended and intimate, as if the speaker briefly steps outside her own hurry to see herself as someone else might. It leaves a lingering sense of tenderness, distance, and recognition all at once.
The Return — Summary
Coming up from my boat In haste to lighten your anxiety, I saw, reflected in the circular metal mirror. The face and hands of a woman Arranging her hair.