Reflections

Reflections

Danijela stares into the round mirror
of her dresser, her focus
on the furniture reflected behind her:
an old chest of drawers, a night table and a single bed —
all from the local thrift shop.
A lamp with a stained shade retrieved
from the garbage bin in the alley behind her building.

The reflected image shows worry lines
around her hazel eyes and hair that has lost its luster.

Her attention strays to a movement outside her window,
a black and red kite playing in the breeze,
its tail decorated with silky green bows, a reminder
of her home in Kandahar.

Oh how they loved kite-flying, as children,
chasing through alleys and streets to capture
the ones that were cut in the fights.

She remembers her mother's blue bowl
of red-ripe pomegranates, their juicy seeds burst
like tiny rockets on her tongue.
In the kitchen, a fresh scent of lemons
and shiny black olives piled in baskets.

Her smile slowly fades as she recalls
her dreams of education were shattered
by the Taliban.
Forced to flee her home, her friends, her lover.

Danijela touches the locket around her neck,
opens it, sees her Kashkan's serious dark eyes,
his smiling face staring back at her.

Her eyes trace the curving crack in the plaster
from the corner of the window.
Hope seeps through.


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djc
Poetry
Free Verse
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