Friday, February 20, 2009

rubbing the lamp

It’s feels like I’m taking dictation from life at the moment - a lot of everything and nothing filling my notebook.  A few scraps in the meantime…

 

She sleeps in a knot.  Come morning she will untangle and stretch and enter another day that will confuse and tie her.  She’s a ribbon, a string, a fraying bootlace.  She sleeps like a boiled sweet - wrapped in a folded sheet, twisted at each end.

 ***

Wednesday market stall - mesmerised for a moment by a tumble of colour contained by glass.  Like something from a fairy tale - dreams of genies and potions.  Actually just a heap of cheap nail polish.

 ***

She’s like a cat in that new cardigan.  She’s moulting.  Leaving a hairy path behind her.  We know where she’s been and we follow.  The beads clatter around her thin wrists and we think it’s the sound of her bones.

4 comments:

polona said...

your scraps are great sketches from life and of life we usually fail to notice

Thankful Paul said...

Hello! :)

dandelion said...

a 'tumble of colour' - what a great image... I think the thin wristed one sounds like an interesting character...x

Hildred and Charles said...

Your writing makes me desperately want to be young again....