Grandmother’s handwriting on the white paper
‘
modern garden
grass
liatris spicata
siberian iris
blazing star
papyrus
baby tears
interesting
clean
,
Strawberry stains on the white plate
rectangles of sunlight
neat, clean, ordered study
my books on the rug – in my lap – on the chair
pages assigned to myself
going unread
lie still
and my heartbeat moves my whole body
a pendulum clock
full veins, heart prone to wander
rays of sun
warming skin
quiet
sounds soothe and make for real stillness
I wont write what I love
because I love it,
the dance on the bricks
the chime in the tree
the metallic, the rust, the green living friend for the breeze
I noticed her age
but I don’t want to know -
timeless, forever, she’s always.
avocados, sea salt
blueberries
a glass of clear water.
3 comments:
P.S. This isn't poetry. This is a lazy recording of thoughts and things I notice or like or think about in one particular moment.
thought it was something your grandmother wrote..
She wrote the different plants and ideas for the new garden, I copied down some of it.
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