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Silver Mirror with Cupids

for Tonia
Silver-rimmed and oval and inside
a parted curtain of silver edging
two Cupids race with gold-etched bows.

The one above would miss the one below
and likewise the one beneath: the arrows
would whistle past their outflung heels

their whirring active wings would drive them past
the vacancy of half a glass they patrol
with the insistence of humming birds. Love

must be hereabouts. The strong soft arms
hold the arrows for instant release. The torsos
float so confidently on the surface, covering

the intervening space. It must be a face
they are waiting for. One arrow will clip
the ear of anyone who appears, the other

land in your hair. You will be hemmed in
the second you appear. Still who would fear
if appearing is the perquisite to taking a chance?