A Forest Of Narcissus Poem by Deepa Agarwal

A forest of narcissus
she said
grew behind my house.

My thoughts congealed like the shimmer
of long ago frost
transforming the ordinariness of grass blades
as I inhaled the forgotten perfume
of small precise blooms
that scented a winter room once
within the whiteness of secure walls.

A forest of narcissus
she said
grew behind my house.
So many small heads
that had loved themselves to death.

This modest seeming woman
who lost herself
in that self obsessed forest
while connecting with a bunch of flowers
growing out of glass walls
straining to exude fragrance
in a room
secure in its personal clamour.