Friday 23 April 2021

FRICTION LINES CUT THE SKY

 

I woke in the night and wrote the first draft of this post's poem. This is not something I do often.

It concerns the Lyrid meteor shower which was visible this week in Devon. It all happened pretty much like the poem says.

Night Meteorites


he happened to wake

at the optimum hour

the bathroom window

was a dark blue square

stained by the street light

he chanced to see

friction lines cut the sky


on waking he will question the memory


I appear to be in a very prolific phase at the moment. 

This poem too is a little observation.

one hour in


we were at the stage

when everything takes on

an infinite aspect


and so were running around the house

taken with the newly revealed size of it all

and the distance between the rooms


a picture caught me

an etching of a dress

I stood and watched all the straight line dance


it does not last long

you are soon carried on

smiling into the next phase


Here is Laura Gibson, I Carry Water.


Until next time.

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