Thursday 15 April 2010

2 am


Silence pumps in my ears.

A child's thin wail
through the party wall.
Press my hands into
the cushion of my belly.
Float.

4 comments:

Dave said...

I'm so glad you're sharing poetry now. I love the economy of line and image in this one -- a real stand-out.

Dale said...

Yes. Your stuff often makes me think of Blake's insistence on line as the essence of art.

Jean said...

Um, thank you both.

leslee said...

This is lovely. Not only beautiful composition and tone, but instantly recognizable, the universal story it evokes. And the specifics of your lines.