Other people's talk: inane and bored.
Voice inside the head: the caged 'me'.
Rare ambient sound outside
Snow thuds from a branch
Prayer to the waning light, up.
Down, a crow's mock sound.
Without a clock, but like one
The earth hour moves to dark
...
This is beautifully powerful. How many of us have a "caged me"? Is the snow you described heard by anyone other than a "caged me"? Vignettes of life often capture an entire persona. Actions, non-actions. Mute the voices of babble and lend life to a lingering presence.
ReplyDeleteThe vignettes are the life. Sensitive to them enough and poetry is possible. The grit under the oyster shell that forms the pearl.
ReplyDelete