Just A Moment
A-Z Part J:
In which a splash becomes most reflective
Tap
water refracts from each plate, splashes the draining board, the dry dishes not
yet put away, the windowsill, Claire’s t-shirt. Lines of droplets race down the
windowpane. Claire lets them run to conclusion before she wipes the cloth over.
She looks out at the precise shadows playing on the ground under the ash tree.
The sun, as she understands it, is a sphere of burning gas. Not poetic
sounding. But she thinks of how fire burns in a grate, the hiss and twist of
escaping gases, the unexpected colours, how ornate and snaky. She sweeps the
floor, unsure of when the softly snoring cherub will awake.
Sometimes after reading your posts, I don't have any other comment but an implied happy sigh. Hope that is ok.
ReplyDelete-Heather
Heather, that is so much more than okay. It is a perfect compliment, thank you very much :-)
ReplyDeleteI feel weird intruding on this beautiful conversation with you and Heather.
ReplyDeleteI love, 'the sun, as she understands it ...'
Not an intrusion, Suze, a most welcome addition! I am being terrible at visiting other blogs, am lucky anyone is talking to me at all- but April is a bowled over month! I will make a mad dash at visiting when times are more sedate! :-)
ReplyDeleteMoving right along. Your prose is so rich.
ReplyDeleteAnd duh! I just realized that you have your name up there, Lisa. I knew you from other sites, but I'm a bit leery if someone is using an alias, to use another name I might know them by.
Lisa it shall be. :-)