Coin Silver

HOUR EIGHT

Lines from ‘Mirror’ by Sylvia Plath

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon

My tears like vinegar

a tender breeze whisper some thoughts, tonight
I am a coin silver- the
mighty chunks of my unripe dreams caustic
corn husk in an Uncle Bob’s truck wails in the wind
I breathe shallots, pebbles, and mushrooms; ephemeral love
The neighbors at the farthest end brewing the soup and the gossips
Aunt Cathy has gone to the city market to buy blue lace for her new dress; it’s late
Moon hidden behind the pine trees and
as we wait for the dinner that would be served soon
pale skin feels like a sour aspic moon- my
bitter words simmer in the pot pan like vinegary tears
outpours and daydreams swelled in a warm chicken broth like
a stuffed piñata and we toast our wine with a dash of vinegar.

Copyrighted by Ruchi Chopra, 2017.

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