on the flat side of a stone
under a fancy tabletop
in the ridge of a sore tooth
inside a new boot
behind the earlobe
under the engine of a toy train
on a bee’s breath
in a dancer’s hair
(plaited over)
and a sunset
written with a nail clipping
an eyelash
tongue on skin
a sparkler
a plane
more places to put names, like
the rough side of a stone
the toilet door of course
the first frost and the second
condensation at the bay window
white icing on the cake
with a salt shaker
a shoelace
a permanent marker
a fingertip
invisible ink
shadows
spit
Marvellous
ReplyDeletewonderful....uncanny, I've been struggling with a poem for days, its central images, eyelash and sparkler. :)
ReplyDeleteI have had this experience a number of times too, Efi, working on a poem that has in some way not come together yet, and then one popping up in 366 that seems to have caught a similar subliminal thread, not obvious in things like events, or weather changes, or other shared rhythms. It keeps happening, and I mean to write down what and when and then let it slip. It seems quite magical in some ways. Another part of the conversation. And thanks, Lizz and Efi for your response.
ReplyDeletethat is fab. Beautiful connections!
ReplyDeleteReally striking!
ReplyDelete