A few years ago, this poem was triggered by my reading about 'sailing stones' and the mystery of how they moved from one place to another. That made me think about a young relative who was very dear to me who went from "one place to another," when she died. The poem is a meditation on the mystery of death, and some of the details in the poem describe the room in which she died and her personal effects. The mirror image is there to suggest another dimension. I won't say more than that, except hers was an untimely 'sailing' from this place to the other.
No one knows how a glacier moved you
into the mirror.
Ruined petals by a glass door, coreopsis
disintegrates in lantern light.
What is leaving?
where are your rugged clothes
your enameled lip’s lustrous cantata?
This mysterious rut in desert sand,
a scientist’s mare, ice-riding stone,
how you sailed there?