After Rumi
by Judy Abrams
Spring reached us late this year
As the sun warmed my body
I reached for you.
Your eyes reflect an illusion
Of myself unchanged by years
I prefer your gaze
To a mirror.
Now that you are gone
There is no dent in my morning bed
I pull up the bedspread.
Comments
I wanted to read this because I know Judy. Her poem is felt, brief and telling. I’m hoping my interpretation is faulty.
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