Tags
2013, 4*, being, blue, breakdown, brown, grey, identity, leaves, mist, others, silence, smell, sun, trees, walking
walking down the lane
to avoid seeing people
under the various greys
of mist at length the
sun sent a curtain through
the blue trees and when
I smelt the deep brown
fallen leaves I knew I had
silent right to be here
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
being & blue & others & sun & walking wormhole: new year’s eve 2014; train up to London to / walk the bridges across the Thames, and / listen to the voices say it is, and was, like, / but get back home before the fireworks / obliterate it all in the emptying twilight
breakdown wormhole: anti-depressants
brown & leaves wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich 121114
grey & mist wormhole: tag cloud poem VIII – growth
identity wormhole: castrated
silence & trees wormhole: silence
smell wormhole: sniff
I like how the sense of smell affirms your “silent right to be here.” And I like the white space that gives me time to pause, to wait for time to pass. And I like the blue trees, the color they would be within the grey mist. And I like how the right is earned through silence. And….would you like me to go on? 😀
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oh, yes, yes, YES … (whatever did happen to Meg Ryan?); but no, thank you: I think I might embarass myself if you went on; nevertheless, you continue to be so very precious to me because you read so well: you even showed me the reason why I left that white space – you confirm my instincts … thank you
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