The River is old. Once
it held
the reflection of someone
who bent over its bank
and stared
for the longest time
at the water.
Between the long waters running
and the round moon shining
someone knelt.
And there,
upon the length of water
within the hold of moonlight
rested a mirror
the first mirror.
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Posts
I like the pools of water
ReplyDeletelovely poem!! enjoyed it thoroughly!!
ReplyDeletethank you Parv. pleased that you liked it.
ReplyDeleteHi Judy,
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed The First Mirror. I can visualize the magic of the first reflection. Always, a pleasure to stop in to read your work.