Saturday, December 30, 2023

Goldenlocks



I stumbled upon a short 

story, written

as if it were a poem-

Lines broken like cracks in the side-

walk that one steps

Over


Its title did not evoke its

gait and I hazard to observe-

if it walks like a big duck

it could be a small goose

and then

what do profiles 

Reveal or musings in marginalia...


What makes a poem,

a place, a sense of something familiar

almost like thoughts

Severed

So many stories

follow a straight line

and then


turned a corner

saw a different path

without backstory and confident

Nobody

was following me

(anymore)

and then

it was done. 


Artwork by Virginia Frances Sterret, 'Old French Fairy Tales 0077 in Public domain in US, via Wikimedia Commons.


No comments:

Post a Comment

As the crow flies

On still days with drooping flags and contented leaves Sounds somehow soaked in between the crevices of broad daylight I sit as still as my ...