Poem written based upon this image from pinterest.com (pinterest.com/pin/694258098846878203/)
Poet’s notes: this poem was written for this week’s poetry challenge: Write a poem with exactly seven lines.) water rises in the clear bowl, a small cosmos gathering itself. bubbles bloom like breath returning to a long-quiet body. copper and blue tiles hold the warmth of forgotten mornings. on the sill, bottles keep vigil — lotions, perfumes, small reliquaries of touch. the faucet’s flow feels ancient, a quiet force older than ache. the sky beyond the glass window moves in pale currents, clouds drifting close to the sill, and I lean into the moment, letting the water’s rise settle something unnamed.
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