Clouds repose
waiting for the wind
to stitch them together
Little birds
homeward bound
fend smoke
Chimneys look up,
waiting for the rain
to wash their eyes
Trees look down
as if trying to move
blood in their heads..
waiting for the wind
to stitch them together
Little birds
homeward bound
fend smoke
Chimneys look up,
waiting for the rain
to wash their eyes
Trees look down
as if trying to move
blood in their heads..
I was watching the clouds just yestarday. They looked like batting, and I was quilting them together with my eyes...as if I had the power. I am enthralled by the notion chimneys looking up in search of rain. It's so exciting to read a phrase that will change the way you look something forever.
ReplyDeleteI can see you laying in the tall grass on the pillow of your crossed arms, the sky a canopy with no ceiling.
The wind is a joy leaping
ReplyDeletelike soft ponies with babies
on their backs sweeping everybody's
porch clear and combing
the sky full of stars.
But by
God !
What would we really find
if not
for these metaphors
which click well and then
confiscate.
Arresting imagery one must
say. Well
another day or is it
night(?) saved by another tree
barking or is it
the dog who waves his
tail like a fish
on my porch dirty as hell.
Annie,
ReplyDeleteThank you for that wonderful image at the end..I have too recreated the way i will look at chimneys now...but i wish i don't have to...
Aditya,
You are my better half..