Thursday, October 25, 2007

mixed metaphors

I salute the goddesses of good luck when I find the postcard - the picture that started the misunderstanding that gave him the nickname we now know him by - I didn’t know I’d missed it, but I know I miss you

I used to list words - no meaning needed - just for their sound or the patterns they made on the page - like a child builds a tower of blocks only to knock it down and start again

its not that I’m ungrateful or unable to appreciate beauty - but its true that the carnations fascinate me as much, if not more, now they are dead - crisp rustles as I touch and the smell of deep dark dank forgotten bottoms of lost ponds - faded relics of who they once were with weird white worms emerging from one - almost as if it was trying to eat itself, one last brittle supper

hands wrinkled by water - as if my fingertips are trying to fold in on themselves and disappear - as if they want to resign their uniqueness and keep me hidden

woodpigeons walk lines back and forth across our overgrown lawn - like little forensic men - careful footsteps - heads up, heads down - searching for evidence - tasty treats hidden between stemmed green

3 comments:

polona said...

oh, these are quite enjoyable snapshots from your train of thought (if that makes any sense)

Crafty Green Poet said...

excellent, especially the observations of the woodpigeons

dandelion said...

i agree about the crumpled flowers - i often think dead leaves are more beautiful than the healthy green ones.
Your woodpigeon description was spot on - you must have studied him well!...x