Saturday, March 20, 2010

Reflections In A Pool

You know where it started

Fiction engraving
The face of the moon

Small point

Her hands
------Against the height of it

The velocity of tadpoles

Tails down with purpose

Through the turnstile

Every one a mist-like scream

The blood grew feathers

He memorized the lost constellations

Hook, water, shaft, gargoyle

The orbital nature of weathervanes

5 comments:

naoko fujimoto said...

"The blood grew feathers..." I like the line a lot.

R Jay said...

Enjoyed this piece especially...

The velocity of tadpoles
Tails down with purpose"

Great read!
Smiles!
R Jay

Charmi said...

Thanks!

Mark said...

You have a knack for putting phrases together, you really do... I like this, but I think it dissolves into too many single lines toward the end. I played around with it a little--see if any of these changes feel right to you:

You know where it started

Fiction engraving
The face of the moon

Her hands
------Against the height of it

The velocity of tadpoles

Tails down with purpose
Through the turnstile

Each one a mist-like scream

The blood grew feathers

Lost constellations he memorized:
Hook, water, shaft, gargoyle

The orbital nature of weathervanes


We never did get around to planning a spring workshop, did we? Hmm...

Charmi said...

Your edit is perfect, Mark. Just what it needed.

I feel really bad about the lack of workshops. I've been a hermit lately. I'm reading someplace Friday night for that Arts Everywhere event. I suppose I should find out where. I know it's a 6 p.m., though, with some other IUSB folks. Come out and we'll plan something.