Friday, September 18, 2009


my reflection in this mirror is like the Gassan 121*,
sparkling as the sun pours into the room

and I watch drops of water roll down the glass like racehorses
kicking up the sand

until they pool at the bottom like a glassy ocean
the color of the sky on a cloudy morning
melting into the hard gray steel.

(for the first time I can see the
dust twirling in the sunset behind the trees.)

I am surrounded by bright pink flowers,
all swaying to their own music.

*I saw this diamond (shown in the image at the top) at the Gassan headquarters in Amsterdam, Holland.

(Poetry Friday roundup here.)


Kiki said...

you are a BORN POET priya, a BORN POET!!!!! keep it up!

Beth Kephart said...

the racehorses kicking up sand is a tremendous image, dear Priya.

Priya said...

Kiki- thank you very much!

Beth- I was thinking of your posts about the local horse fairs when I wrote that line :)