ReverieReverieReverie
In the photograph sit six ripe pears in focus on a worn window ledge, behind them the blurred green-gold of summer afternoon. This moment's serenity
in a chaotic kitchen transcends time between mat and frame, but I wonder about the moment after, when the hand of a hungry child, strong, sure, stained with earth, comes sliding through the open window's gap. It will hover there an instant, as she weighs the choice, then lightning-quick descend and disappear clutching the chosen fruit like a trusty baseball. Then there will be fiv
November SnowNovember SnowNovember Snow
Feathery whiteness, delicate fragments of cloud, fill the serene air with silent music while gentle tiny fingers brush my face, rest in your lashes, caress our hair. This soft hour
we two alone can hear the harmonies, my scarf wrapped around us both, as tender whiteness covers the sleeping earth.
copyright Katherine Fuerst, 2004 from The Low Road
For QuentinFor QuentinFor Quentin
Tonight I slept in time: watch strapped to my naked wrist, alarm brazening the gentle dark, wall clock serene and imperative, counting
inexorably
each passing
second.
I cover
my eyes. I know time's certainty
should comfort in a world so unstable, but must that slow, insistent ticking follow me through my dreams?
copyright Katherine Fuerst, 2004.
--
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Beauty, rage, pain, love... these are the seeds of art. What fruit we reap depends on the care we give them. - Me
You'd also think that, with the librarianship thing working so well as a mild-mannered secret identity, I might have a grasp of the elementary spelling concept of EI v. IE.
You might even think, after yoiu'd dismissed the ideas of lunar green cheese (so good with Triscuits) and MIB special agents Ia sister of mine dated one once) and time travel (I thought the Roaring Twenties a bit loud), that I ought to stop trying to begin, and just start off beside what's aready begun anyway.
And if you thought all that, simultaneously, and didn't immediately forswear human society, or go up in spontaneous mental combustion, you'd be thinking the utter truth about one thing.
;Cause I really am getting the EI thing down.
--
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Beauty, rage, pain, love... these are the seeds of art. What fruit we reap depends on the care we give them. - Me
So, here we have a lovely visual reference to showcase my amazing capacity for "creative" thinking.
I shall put an actual entry in my journal tomorrow, I think. And leave you "odd weird comments"! Yay!
--
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Beauty, rage, pain, love... these are the seeds of art. What fruit we reap depends on the care we give them. - Me
Hello and welcome to
DeviantArt. Have Fun and Enjoy.
My
Help
[link]
--
The cure for boredom is curiousity. There is no cure for curiosity.
Previous PageNext Page