Various Degrees of Blur
My pencil whorls.
Gone are the edges.
The sharpness erased.
Roof tiles
hide under moss. Stones
hide the curve of hills.
Grass flattens
under the weight of tyres.
A shadow denies its edge.
And my fingers
push back the second hand,
as the hours spin.
for dVerse Poets “Edges and Fringe” #1 & 2 © Misky 2021 and photo by Ari Spada on Unsplash.
It's Still Life 
25 responses to “dVerse Edges”
I like this softening of the edges around you. I particularly like the agency of “A shadow denies its edge.”
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Thank you, Merril.
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You’re welcome!
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I like the dizzying effect of this. (K)
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Thank you.
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Misky I like how you conjured the flashing images that feel like they are mirroring the spinning hours of the clock. I like the idea that all sharp edges are softened over time. Beautiful poem.
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Thank you very much!
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You’re welcome 🙂
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Very nice. Especially liked “A shadow denies its edge” — that never dawned on me before.
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Thank you, Ron.
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A captivating examination of the blurred edges of our world.
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Thanks, Ingrid. 😁
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Wow; this poems feels crafted – every word and line break seems to matter.
Wonderful, Misky.
-David
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Thanks so very much, David.
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I like how you started with something so concrete as a dull pencil, becoming a metaphor for that blur when edges lose their definition… actually it feels a bit like this after a year of covid.
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Yes it does feel that way. Very odd.
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All of the above – and so liked the strength of the images – stones hiding hills, moss hiding roof tiles…the poem invites looking again at the world in all its blurriness.
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Dig deep, as my dad always said.
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And thanks, Peter.
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“push back the second hand as the hours spin” … an evocative phrase. Well penned.
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Hi misky , arthritis flaring, typing excruciating, but good work!
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I’m so sorry about your flare-up. Take care.
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Wow…perfection, elegance. I love it.
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Thanks! 😁
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You’re welcome.
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