so in its stead, i dug this out of the closet of diaryland. another poem-like tangle of words assembled about 2 and a half years ago. it is really meant for march and april, but since we are all dreaming of spring anyway, why not now?
it doesn't have a name, hasn't got much form or polish. i'd still consider it a work in progress. i might do some more tweaking. although, like nearly everything i write, it was snatched out of a moment and meant for nothing else but that moment and a burst of creative notions.
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This wind. It blows. everything. Blows the broom over. Blows dust round and round and round in a swirl. Blows old dead leaves. Blows me. me. meeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!
Up in a gust.
Round in a spiral.
Lifting me higher.
Up, up, and over, beyond the tallest limbs of the tallest tree.
I look out over the world. From the wind’s eye view, I see the world curve. I curve with it! I AM the world’s curve!! I look out over the world as I curve. I see where I have gone. I see where I could go.
I rush into empty pockets, vast voids, new spaces. equalizing. Balancing.
I throw my arms around the wind, exclaiming, “You are mine! I am yours! I will soar along your current that is also mine!” I also push over brooms, sweep streets into the air, fling dust and dead leaves. I reorder the air, replacing heat molecules with cool. I breathe the cool breath of the breeze.
I will cool you.
Cool your mind, your spirit, your skin, your heart.
I will steady you, little molecules, I will slow your agitated dance.
Steady your mind. Steady your spirit. Steady your skin. Steady your heart.
We curve in coolness.
3 comments:
But Bid, if you never tweaked a bit, it is already an oh-so-satisfying read. Thanks for it.
Thanks, I felt the wind.
poetic. great imagery where knock over the broom then become the broom to sweep the streets. very well done
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