Some days are blue sky days
amongst the cumulating cumulus
greys and charcoal black although
some light always shines through
One day stacked upon an-
other higgledy piggledy
but somehow they balance
steady as she goes
a honeycomb of hours
in measured cubes of empty-
ness but within the network grid-
lock there’s always a golden key
How I love the 'honeycomb of hours'. Great image, resonates for me. The create could become anything (almost). You have brought together so much here, Sarah.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed how you alluse to the sky, sun, clouds (blue, yellow, grey crates) in the poem. The evryday made extarordinary.
ReplyDeletea vertical garden of time
ReplyDeletewonderful poem and associating this picture to it gives such a new dimension to both of them, great job!
ReplyDelete