A small
invisible
sun
lights a glass cube
in which stands
a little man
casting his own
small
shadow.
Tag Archive for Imagism
Half Mast
Love is the warmest breeze—
Sailing with the deepest breath
Tugging at the summer dress
And it’s not that
the dress lies flat on my knees;
Or that the sail doesn’t catch a breeze
Because I’ll tell you
My summer dress has been tugged at last
And the sail is hanging at half mast
Sink, To
Thirty-five miles until we
reached the exit, the sign read, that has
meant Christmas to me
since I was six.
So I tried to sink back
into my seat, discovering, though,
that once you have sunken
all the way, you have to
sit up again, surface for air, and wait
a time until you can sink
again.
In a green minivan flashing by
a girl looked skyward as she
sat silent with her headphones.
How far was she
from her exit?
The driveway was smooth black as
we pulled in, glistening with melted
flurries as we left.
Back on the highway, swimming
with the red glow, watching the white light
flowing against us.
Trying to sink, heading home.
Bonfire
The flames do their elaborate dances to silent music only they can hear. The sparks fly into the midsummer sky for their short minute of glory, then plummet back to the earth and disappear. The wood performs an art show with its orange burning embers.
And meanwhile we humans take all this for granted and call it just a bonfire.
Sunset
The sun set itself amongst the tall buildings, flinging its dying breath of light across the city. Dark reds and oranges danced between the buildings, chasing each other down narrow streets. Clouds glowed a vibrant red and brown for only a few minutes, before the sun disappeared, and the remaining light flowed away, like rain water down a street drain. Then the moon edged its way across the sky, bringing with it the darkness of the night.
“Are you OK?”
“Sorry?”
“I asked if you were OK?”
“Yes I’m fine. I was just… watching the sunset.”
“Oh right.” She began to walk away.
“It was beautiful wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t notice it, sorry.” She walked further away.
“Maybe you should.” I said.
“Pardon?” She stopped walking.
“Maybe you should stop, and take more notice.”
“OK, thanks.” She carried on walking, and was quite far away by now.
“It’s important,” I shouted as she turned the corner. She was a long way away. And I don’t think she heard me.