Immersion

Phillip Brown

I turn off the shower
and the bathroom
seems to exhale

in the sudden quiet
as I step out
still dripping
into the humid warmth

My goldfish
floats dreamily round
the bowl on the sill
buoyant and luminous
like an orange balloon

its metallic body shimmering
lit by morning
pouring through the window

a glare of citrus beside
the blue-tiled wall

Everything licked lightly
with sun transforms
holding the glow of sacred
of holy
and the rim of the fishbowl
shines like a halo

The steam breath
glistens like perspiration
on the cool tiles
and the porcelain lip
of the sink milk-white

and clouds the mirror
a strange vaporous flower
blooming silently
to the edge of the glass

veiling my reflection

As I gaze
at its surface
the moment slows
and stills like a drop
of water on the tip
of a leaf
tremulous and lucid

I see myself
obscured

the lines of my body
softened and my skin
shining faintly
my spirit
resting around me
like the low mist that
whispers from sodden earth
after rain

Tiny beads of water
condense and run down
the mirror trailing
liquid strands through
clouded glass

I try to hold the stillness
in the bowl
of my two hands together
perhaps to drink
from it awhile longer
but it slips between
my fingers

emptying

And I begin to feel
its pull
as it recedes

dissolving into
the now-turning day
like a wave
returned to the sea