Su Ben Poet Free verse

My Face Reflecting In a Glass

my face reflecting in a glass was small;
the face looked sure, was sensible, yet appeared
to be a kind of abashed, intimidated and embarrassed, 

as the glasses add up one, two and more and more
moon rises, clouds drift, and the wind passes 
to stir up the glass rippled brim over 

and as glasses grow taller
the thunder roars on the flower bloomed field,
the chirr of crickets slowly diminishes, covered with 
fallen leaves, then the blizzard, carried by the north wind, 
raving through the wilderness where the ruins all have abandoned

then, when the glasses come crumbling down 
because of the height of the weight,
my face with the whole of sorrow 
from a prolonged time of mistreatment and abuse reflecting 
on each and every scattered piece of broken glass tears 
to fill the gap between the world of reality and illusion

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