Writing time
The sky is grey
Power lines fan out across the air like pen marks on a white paper
Pine trees poke their heads onto the page.
The refrigerator was humming, but now it’s stopped.
The wind chimes were playing, but they’re stopped now, too.
There’s only the whisper of my pen on the paper,
etching words like power lines fanning out across the sky.
I love the imagery in your poem. The second line is delicious
The silence here. It’s ampllified, made precious and beautiful, as you – as the world – stops and holds its breath, waiting for the power of words. Incredible.
Power lines always seem to ruin my photographs, yet your second line doesn’t make them sound so bad. I enjoyed this reflection of yours. 🙂
Gorgeous…I am impressed by how you captured quiet! Every word seems to settle perfectly onto the page. Thank you for this (and for the other pieces from this month!).