The gaps get shorter...

A glimpse of my recent dye try activities...

- soon more...

Wednesday Poem

Shorter than the blink inside a blink
the National Grid will sometimes make, when you’ll
turn to a room and say: Was that just me?

People sitting down for dinner don’t feel
their chairs taken away/put back again
much faster that that trick with tablecloths.

A train entering the Olive Mount cutting
shudders, but not a single passenger
complains when it pulls in almost on time.

The birds feel it, though, and if you see
starlings in shoal, seagulls abandoning
cathedral ledges, or a mob of pigeons

lifting from a square as at gunfire,
be warned it may be happening, but then
those sensitive to bat-squeak in the backs

of necks, who claim to hear the distant roar
of comets on the turn – these may well smile
at a world restored, in one piece; though each place

where mineral Liverpool goes wouldn’t believe
what hit it: all that sandstone out to sea
or meshed into the quarters of Cologne.

I’ve felt it a few times when I’ve gone home,
if anything, more often now I’m old
and the gaps between get shorter all the time.

(Paul Farley: Liverpool Disappears for a Billionth
of a Second - borrowed at 3 QUARKS DAILY)


ArtSparker hat gesagt…

The poem goes quite exactly with George Tooker's famous "Subway"


Deb G hat gesagt…

Oh so pretty! I finally got pink. Let the avocado ferment for a couple weeks outside on the shelf. Seems like dyeing with sun/plant life can be kind of smelly sometimes. :)

jude hat gesagt…

intrigued by the top photo

daisy hat gesagt…

The delicate article from these simple things.What a great work.

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ger hat gesagt…

Yes, Susan, it does, thanks... that´s how I feel down there (except they wore more decent clothes in 1950)... - hurrah to pink (even when it stinks... ;) - thanks, Jude... did you see the face? (I´m sure you did...) - thanks to you, too, Daisy...