the sunday whirl
they came like some kind of revenant engagement
a fluctuation in the hum of her world
her bustling ceased for the slightest of moments
as if she were searching for movement in the air around her
not a roar exactly or a drop in temperature
more like a sigh
that claimed her in the middle of her day
gave her no leave to dismiss her duty
or wonder if they be real
her bustling ceased for the slightest of moments
as if she were searching for movement in the air around her
not a roar exactly or a drop in temperature
more like a sigh
that claimed her in the middle of her day
gave her no leave to dismiss her duty
or wonder if they be real
nothing but spirits she thought
throwing imaginary shafts to try and pin them down
throwing imaginary shafts to try and pin them down
and hoping they would treat her justly
Oh, I love this. Well done!
ReplyDeleteYou have such a way with words!
ReplyDeleteI think she she is keeping her head together - not sure I'd be so brave..a beautifully formed and atmospheric poem..sometimes what is not named is the most ominous
ReplyDeleteTaking one step at a time is calming! Very nice read!
ReplyDeleteenjoyed this.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Beautiful words
ReplyDeletewonderful.
ReplyDelete