Girl Watching Goldfish
White dress, blue sash, olive skinned –
she half sits, half kneels,
on black and white tiled floor.
Her dark eyes flash – mirror the glint
of the crystal bowl; silver, blue and amber.
Adorn the walls – kilims, rugs of every hue,
hand knotted works of art. Tapestries
woven from bronze and copper thread.
A grand affair indeed, her husband’s
house, for which she’d sworn to be
eternally grateful. The breeze wafts
the drapes and through the window,
drifts the plaintive call to prayer.
Was it only just turned three?
How time drags and how she pines
for tonight with its respite from the heat.
She eyes the goldfish – imagines
swimming in their underwater world
that flashed silver, blue and amber.
Rainbow colours she’d seen once …
when she was young. Her world,
so different from theirs and yet
in some ways, much the same …
as she listens as thin whispers
ricochet off glasshouse walls.
He finds her sandals, washed up
with the morning tide … those
of his twelve year old new bride.
On the shore, her sash of Prussian
blue and a crystal bowl – flashing
silver, blue and amber. Like colours
of a rainbow she’d seen once …
when she was young.