The distinguished David Constantine takes a physical phenomenon (a window in the dark functioning as a mirror) to muse on identity and existence in an original way.

The poem comes from his seventieth birthday collection, Elder (Bloodaxe Books, £9.95).

MIRROR, WINDOW

Before daybreak the window is a black mirror

In which is visible nothing but myself

Looking in. We face each other. He knows

As well as I do what I have in my head

And around the heart. He is not pitiless

Only he cannot help me. I could him.

By looking away at once I could release him

From being on the outside looking in.

I don't, I stare, he stares. It is obvious

We are not good for one another.

I trust he will fade on the crowing of the cock

As he always has and there'll be a world outside

Land, sea and air and some fellow creatures

And I will become invisible to myelf

At a window gratefully looking out.