A Poem by Bobbi Sinha-Morey
In the unquiet auction
a woman who looks
like Jayne Mansfield
wears glasses to examine
antiques, her green eyes
reflected in the crystal
calm, unbroken dialogue
inside her head
over the porcelain rooster
and rosewood desk. She
loves buying cut glass,
delicate objects from
the past, as if they were
her entrance to a dream.
She’d love to buy a house
in heaven, furnish it with
pastels and everything
she sees. The light of a
violet lamp shade, letters
from the forties elegantly
written by hand, lyrical
beauty from unforgotten
eras. She touches a bowl
of carnival glass. A door
in her heart opens.
Our Day's Encounter 