A Silver Reflection

My birch cane clicked softly against the polished mahogany as I concluded my evening promenade along the sideboard. Near the corner rested a small silver match safe, hinged shut and buffed to a mirror finish. Upon approaching, I paused to observe my formal presentation in its curved lid. My tall hat sat squarely, though a stray whisker of my grey beard had caught the evening air awkwardly. Raising one skeletal hand, I smoothed the fibers into place while leaning lightly on my birch wand. The metal surface answered with a crisp, polite reflection of complete composure.