By Guest Poet, Susannah Bec
It drips on me
this silence
through the cracks
in my solid ceiling
it seeps
leaving patterns
a tiny tracery
of unspoken words
like delicate fronds
on the cold hard concrete
of today
Time silvered dominos
topple, a tidal wave
of tiny dots
falling
and falling
and falling
until
once again
the empty room
the silence
me
© 2010 by Susannah Bec
All Rights Reserved
outofmyocean.blogspot.com
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“Words bubble up from the depths of that big subconscious ocean, the vast churning sea that lies beneath the realm of conscious thought. They float on the swells and are rocked by the rhythm of the ever moving waters, until finally they reach the shallows and ride the surf to my shoreline. I find them washed up amongst the flotsam and jetsam, I write them down and store them here . . ." Read Susannah's complete interview on Poet's United.
2 comments:
Thanks for featuring me Joyce. It is an honour to appear amongst your wonderful poetry!
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You are so welcome, Susannah. The honor is shared!
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