Tabatha Deans

Poetry abounds

Having run out of conscious streams of words after a long and exhausting week, I’ve been driven once again to produce poetry. Here is my latest attempt:

Reflection
The pool is smooth, glassy, stagnant
The reflection is my own, only different
Serene or listless, I’m not sure
Maybe both, maybe neither

The familiar face smiles back
Reflecting my soul, my strength, my quintessence
But we are intimately separate
The impression before me

I reach out to the familiar reflection
Sweeping it softly with my fingertips
Distorting its still beauty with ripples
Disheartened at its passing

Afraid that it will return the same
Unmoved, unchanged, unrecognizable
Hopeful that its rippled journey
Has not been hollow

October 7, 2009 - Posted by Tabatha Stewart | Uncategorized