my hand tingled in your firm grip
as we gazed at our reflections in the cold lake below,
faces close, winter coats concealing our hearts.

letting me go, you bent at the knees,
carefully selected a round, black stone
and dropped it gently to splosh and sink,
sending ripples across the water,
blurring our faces so they seemed to
separate from themselves and each other.
the light changed, and our images disappeared.
in silence we turned from the scene.
icy hands thrust in our lonely pockets
lonely hearts warmed only by wool
while behind us the ripples expanded
ever outwards.

And that, friends, is my poem for this weeks challenge from Esther

©Jane Paterson Basil


7 thoughts on “Reflections

        1. You’re as good as the best of them. You have your own style and your own magic. Sometimes I look at someone else’s poem and I think “I wiish I could have written that,” but then realise that what I do is probably just as valid.
          I have to add that I couldn’t do what you do, either. You’re unique and wonderful.


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