Dialogues in mirrors send
an incision into her reflection
8:12 in the morning …
years beneath hostile beauty
unconquered, perfectly combed
with polished lips, a flawless act
Walking through fixed corridors
on uncomfortable legs,
no rhythm to a thin will
She embraces coldness in
quivered memory, roots of a spirit
hanging in an open window,
watching a young boy drinking morning dew
from a whisper-sweet fountain
Passionate, simple songs flourish in
humid snapshots on this day;
her skin, a missed touch
by someone standing
on the other side of her world;
uttered silence, lost gestures
Outside, a young girl shuffles her feet,
picks up the spilt roses, placing
them attentively in a vase
by the door’s entrance … and goes
in to see her mom
wordsandthoughtspjs 
An interesting take on the wordle words, which were well disguised in your capable hands. I love the whisper-sweet fountain
Typo in last line? (into to)
Thanks for your comment, Viv. I noticed something was wrong there and looked at it 25 times and never figured it out. Thanks again.
I like that opening line.
Such a sad poem.
Thanks, Linda. I am feeling a bit melancholy …
Sorry to hear that. But it made for a good poem 🙂
nice…some really great touches in this…her skin, a missed touch….also really like the zoom out in the end on the girl and flowers then going in to her mom…
Thanks Brian. This where my mood took me.
I do see the sadness in this poem, but it seems to end on a positive note with the girl bringing flowers in to see her mom. I see this as her gesture to get outside of herself and to bring happiness (flowers) to someone else. I may be wrong.
Mary, that is not quite what was happening here, but I like the thought.
Love the title (your titles are always amazing!) and it makes a gorgeous opening line! Favorite lines: “Walking through fixed corridors” and “She embraces coldness in
quivered memory” and “simple songs flourish in
humid snapshots.” Wonderful!
Marianne, they say the writer usually does, or least should put a little of themselves in the writing. You could say that is what happened here. Thanks.
There are some really lovely lines in this. I love the whisper-sweet fountain and also her skin missed a touch. It does seem sad and yet, as Mary said, ends on a somewhat happier note. I could feel the humidity too.
Lovely writing Pamela.
Bren, today my daughter turns 34 and I miss her so much. I wish I could be with her today, but sadly I cannot. The school year ended and I will miss the children of 3rd grade. I made some tough decisions these last two weeks. This is the result of them.
This is filled with melancholy or wistfulness, Pamela. It’s a soft read, though. Your phrasing is lovely.
Thanks Brenda, melancholy it is …
Love the fluidity of your poetry, Pamela, how the words quietly create one image after another as they flow through a landscape you seem able to create with such ease. Beautiful as usual. Melancholy yes, but haunting none the less,
Elizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/
Elizabeth, I started this poem last week. I kept adding to it through out the week. By some miracle … I was able to add the wordle words to it. Thanks.
I love what you did, and where you went and took you me with you!
What a very nice comment, Annell.
I was often told by my mom that, ultimately, all you really have is family. I hope this young woman moves on and gets some happiness in her life. Lovely wordle use…
Very true, Joy. Family is quite important. It is one of the endearing qualities of Mexico.
I love that second stanza, especially “no rhythm to a thin will”. I saw this as a mother and daughter; I hope they connect and it’s not just dialogues in mirrors.
Richard
Richard, there is always hope of reconnection. Thanks.
“Passionate, simple songs flourish in
humid snapshots on this day;”
Gorgeous writing!
Hi Mama Zen! How nice to see you!
Amazing, Pamela… I especially like:
She embraces coldness in
quivered memory, roots of a spirit
hanging in an open window,
watching a young boy drinking morning dew
from a whisper-sweet fountain
Thanks Laurie. I am glad you survived Disney.
Really enjoyed the images in this. Excellent use of the wordle words!
Thanks Peggy.
Beautiful imagery, lovely lines. Like others, I found ‘whisper-sweet fountain’ to be a stellar image.
Susan, thanks for saying so. 🙂
So many good lines here . . . roots of a spirit /
hanging in an open window . . . , her skin, a missed touch /
by someone standing /
on the other side of her world; . . .
Really nice wordle result, and such a long, complete poem. You inspire me.
Thanks Gerry. I appreciate your lovely comment.
I too thought this is fluid and lovely.
Fluid is good, and lovely is even better. Thanks Irene 🙂
Mirrors are always enchanting – One of my favorites is Alice’s of Wonderland. Also reminds me of the news where there is a loss of life unexpected in the neighborhood and there is a quite air about a make-shift memorial made to honor memories of fleeting perhaps mirrored glimpses in those lives now take…
Thanks for your visit and kind words.
Mirrors can be enchanting, but then it does depend on the reflection we receive, Jules.
Love the whole poem, beginning with the first two lines which hints at danger to me, mirrors broken can make incisions, also the incision of seeing ones reflection. Missed touch of someone standing on the other side of her world. Lots of longing, remembered cold, once young, now the flawless act of makeup…so much mystery and images in so few words.
Diane, thanks for seeing that in this piece.
Pamela, you have woven the words seamlessly into a sad and lovely piece. I felt this phrase as all too familiar:
Walking through fixed corridors
on uncomfortable legs,
no rhythm to a thin wil
They are rather familiar to me as well, nan. Thanks.
Great poem, to me it seems more bittersweet
Thanks Cathy. Good to see you.
What a poignant and layered piece, Pamela. These lines especially touched me:
roots of a spirit
hanging in an open window,
Thank you Kelly.
Beautiful. LoveloveLOVE the phrase “quivered memory.”
Thanks De, not sure how that one came about. 🙂
I’m “late” making my rounds because of not posting until last night! So I’ve come late to the party, here.
“…polished lips, a flawless act…”
We do that so often…beautifully-captured, Pamela.
~Paula
Paula, we try to appear without flaws, but in the end we are only human. Thanks.
Crafted beautifully. Congratulations, you’re my newest Verbal Ninja.
Ha ha ha! Thanks for the smiles this morning, Benjamin. 🙂
Such a lovely poem! The imagery is exquisite.