the bridge to night, hushed and wakeful, asks me questions– the words cast spells,
hushed and wakeful, delicate and cobwebbed, into ice—a sudden snow
asks me questions, but I remain cloistered– self-contained, undreamed—
the words cast spells– maps sailing silent unknown boundless seas
I started to construct a quadrille for dVerse, using the word ice given to us by Mish, and words from the Random Generator which Merril posted on Sunday. When I saw Colleen’s Ekphrastic prompt, above, it gave me a focus for what I had begun. I used the trimeric form.
just fragments reduced to a series of numbers– take a photo to remember, to contain the unknowable
reduced to a series of numbers, ink on paper, blurred now, salty–
take a photo to remember the spirits now dispersed, unable to find a vessel
to contain the unknowable– all the infinite subtractions– what remains has no name
A trimeric poem for Grace at dVerse. It’s very like a pantoum I think, so of course I like it.
I did this torn painting 6 years ago ago for a post mourning the fact that governments all over the world were destroying ancient art if they did not like the culture or religion it belonged to. Like the earth’s resources, once it’s gone it can never be replaced.