Cinnamon Smoke


Sat on the mismatched dark wood dining chair: look to an unseen distance: stare, calm, wait for words that are looking for somewhere, for what is a word that is never spoken?
An absence, a nothing, unplaced.

A scented candle in a tumbler on the mantelpiece: a thing specific.
Waxy sputter, the last dance of a fat low flame, catches the reflective curve of glass, softer and softer as it shrinks; blue glimmer, red bud, glowing memento, dark wick, captured soot. Like any candle might, recognisable. This one leaves cinnamon smoke.






Comments

  1. Susan Flett Swiderski19 January 2014 at 05:12

    Hmmmm, nice. Cinnamon smoke. One of my daughters-in-law gave me a bunch of scented waxes and a gizmo for melting them in. The cinnamon in one of my favorites.

    You created vivid images with your words. As always.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Lisa Southard19 January 2014 at 08:27

    Cinnamon is one of my faves too: for taste and smell. Not suggesting we should eat wax! :-)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Heather Robinson19 January 2014 at 10:14

    Cinnamon smoke. If I could bottle it I would spread it on my toast with butter. Happy Belated New Year Lisa!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Lisa Southard19 January 2014 at 20:25

    Happy Belatedness reciprocated Heather- cinnamon smoke butter- now I am wondering to to get that flavour on my toast! :-)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thank you for reading my words- my chance to read yours here:

Popular posts from this blog

Unusual Koalas

Image
23/4/22 Saturday Coffee and stretches start this day, then I go off to work and Mr readies himself to meet Contractor Thomas on the land, to talk tracks and flat areas for camping pitches. (This meeting has taken around 5 months to arrive, and that’s how it goes with land plans, folks.) Hydrotherapy sessions have restarted, so to keep our care client entertained but not tired prior to this we have set up disco lights to play over her mat where she sits with her toys. It’s a cool clouded day and we are all disco-dappled and listening to birdsong on YouTube. 24/4/22 Sunday Rain, moderate, mostly over Bodmin Moor. Our care client is tired from her hydrotherapy yesterday, she plays on her mat in between snoozes. We have lakeside and beach scenes courtesy of YouTube; she loves the sounds of nature, I love pretending to be on a writing retreat. Get writing done in short bursts. It is not easy to world build in break times like this, but we edge through it. I type ‘we’ here because Care Clien
Read more

The Week Of Clarke And Covid

Image
30/4/22 Saturday It’s not odd to wake up achy. Yesterday I was dragging and rolling logs, amongst other land tasks. I don’t feel right though, so I take a covid test before thinking about heading to work. The control line is bold red, the test line is barely visible but it’s not not there... message my coworker to pre-warn her that I might not be arriving, though the result may be erroneous. Wait one hour. Re-test. Both lines bold red. Mr’s test is negative, putting him on nurse duty. It feels wrong, at first, not to be off to work, but while I am sitting in bed reading up on the pros and cons of stone tracks; drainage issues in particular; the excitement of having a rest kicks in. Mr goes to the shops and comes home with a cream tea.  1/5/22 Sunday The last calendar month of spring begins with light rain, light grey sky, barely a breeze. The hedge birds have a lot to say; swallows swoop by the bedroom window so fast I see only a fork-tailed blur. Today I rest, I write. 2/5/22
Read more

Worth Every Ache

Image
9/4/22 Saturday Overnight a frost had lain down on our lawn, nestled to the edges. Sun rose unobstructed, warmed the ice to water, gave it little rainbows to wear. At work, I walked to Bethel Tesco to discover they do not have ink cartridge recycling envelopes anymore. They advised that I try the post office- also nope, but the post box had a yarn-bomb bunny on it, and the sun was warm, and everything was cheerful. 10/4/22 Sunday A frost, a pair of coffee cups, a lecture on agroforestry: we start the day right. Browse trees for a while, then up and on with daily stuff like raking out the fire ash and going to work. 11/4/22 Monday Morning: wild wind kicking through the garden. Put my pots in sheltered spots. Drive to work slowly because fuel is expensive, many high-sided vehicles also going slow for safety reasons, roads are busy due to Easter hols, definite convoy vibe.  Outside the air is fresh, bright, summer seems possible, another frost also possible- mischievous weather. 12/4/22
Read more