Life continues to be busy, but in the gaps, as always, I try and fit in what creative pursuits I have time for. Here’s a poem I’ve been noodling on, on days when I’ve been more inclined to explore formal poetic structure.
As an experiment, I’m going to try narrating the poem too.
New Page
The page is empty but I see through it
To faded grey impressions underneath
Where stranded words and backwards fragments sit
And hide the sighs that last week's secrets breathe
Through tangled letters one can still discern
A row of boxes all marked "incomplete"
The bygone glyphs of yesterday's concern
When strangled whims bade meek intents retreat
The more I look the more the twisted knots
Contort, and shrouded subtle meanings swell
The leftwards slants and almost unseen dots
Suffice to hint at stories they can tell.
The ink bleeds black to write a new refrain
Then fades to grey - the page is turned again.
This is beautiful. Thank you for the narration as well. I quite liked. :)