Today I have the strangest feeling
that my mind is turned inside out
for all to behold the flea circus.
And then there is the feeling
that my heart has been swallowed up
by the endless grass. A dream
once: a magpie bare, without
feathers and covered in sores,
jumped in the alchemist's furnace,
and surfaced three days later
in the eyes of a raven-haired beauty.
Such a sad black pebble falling in water.
Things small enough to matter.
OW! Once again your images are too unique to be false! I see the flea circus in the grass. I see the parallel to the magpie in the dream, the hope to be the gleam in a beauty's eye. Thank God for these pebbles you churn out and loose into the world.
ReplyDeleteI don't know what to say, Susan, except that I'm grateful to you for coming here to read and share what you see.
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