If I breathe,
will I hurt the air,
will I break the moon,
shatter, tear
this moment
frail, silvern,
when crickets whisper
Chopin nocturne?
Oddments
In search of story
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If I breathe,
will I hurt the air,
will I break the moon,
shatter, tear
this moment
frail, silvern,
when crickets whisper
Chopin nocturne?
October 4, 2020 at 11:18 am
I wouldn’t want to do anything to that image because it is downright amazing. It’s also a wonderful reminder of how the world and nature are intertwined, and we should never forget that. Happy Sunday, Maureen.
October 4, 2020 at 11:28 am
Intertwined indeed, and a delicate intertwining that is. A happy Sunday to you too, Judy — and today we’ll have to work at that, I know.
October 4, 2020 at 11:41 am
The first five lines struck me forcibly, especially in this time when to breathe can be difficult. They are lines I can read several ways, which I always like. It always interests me how an artist cannot limit their work when it is out in the world, though many try.
On a lighter note, I see the man in the moon towards the top, singing alongside you.
October 4, 2020 at 11:53 am
What a nice thought — the singing man in the moon! And who’s to say that he’s not?
Isn’t it part of the intrigue, that words or images we send out into the world gather nuance? How we send it out is one thing, but how it is received is another thing entirely. And, yes, I think we are holding our global breath at this time.
October 4, 2020 at 2:58 pm
Lovely. Did you take the photo, Maureen?
October 4, 2020 at 3:53 pm
Thank you! I did indeed!
October 4, 2020 at 5:49 pm
Wow, that’s a winner!
October 4, 2020 at 6:11 pm
I can (modestly) say I was pretty stoked with this one. A nice accident!