blue vase

 

Because you like to sleep with curtains drawn,
at dawn I rose and pulled the velvet tight.

You stirred, then set your hand back on my hip,
the bed a ship in sleep’s doubled plunging

wave on wave, until as though a lighthouse
beam had crossed the room : the vase between

the windows suddenly ablaze, a spirit,
seized, inside its amethyst blue gaze.

What’s that ? you said. A slip of light, untamed,
had turned the vase into a crystal ball,

whose blue eye looked back at us, amazed, two
sleepers startled in each other’s arms,

while day lapped at night’s extinguished edge,
adrift between the past and future tense,

a blue moon for an instant caught in its chipped
sapphire―love enduring, give or take.

 

( Cynthia Zarin, 2016 )

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s