Small Flies and Other Wings
There in the overlooked
margins of the windowsill,
unpaired wings and webs
of grey lace and dust are
defused by the sun’s stare.
Wings lay mutilated like
some mental disturbance,
brushed by darkness and
sideslipped in the wake of
a free-hand or brushed breath.
They’re gathered into the wet
grasp of a cleaning cloth, and
their fragments flicked into
the garden with leaves, fallen
petals and nature’s debris.
Back from where they came,
there in the overlooked margins.
An Ekphrastic poem based on Christine Ay Tjoe’s painting “Small Flies and Other Wings” and written for Peter’s dVerse Circle prompt, and dVerse’s The Poet is a Painter. © Misky 2021 Note: I keep missing Mr Linky’s expiration dates, so I decided to write to Peter’s circle prompt and use the image as background inspiration.
27 responses to “Overlooked Margins”
Sounds like someone in need of a good spring clean, but then we’d have missed out on this beautiful poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Slowly but surely, that’s what I’m doing. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Don’t work too hard. Save some energy for the poetry!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The magic of the ordinary is so well-captured here. Small dramas playing out beneath our notice until they find themselves in the sun’s spotlight. Love this, Misky.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you ever so much! I’m delighted that you enjoyed reading it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome 🙂
LikeLike
I love how you captured two prompts in one… the circle of life from the mundane task of cleaning the windowsill
LikeLiked by 1 person
You never cease to amaze me, Misky! 😀 This is phenomenal work! 💝💝
LikeLike
Terrific piece and a great ekphrastic response. I liked all of this – but particularly the little shift in the first and last line: ending the first line with ‘overlooked’ – is an open invitation – you could be talking about anything overlooked; in the final after the wiping and tidying and the madness everything is neat now. So you’ve shown us the wings and the leaves and something of the person flicking the cloth. Lovely.
LikeLike
Thank you, but credit shared with a great prompt.
LikeLiked by 1 person
In your element here, Misky. Aces!
LikeLike
mutilated like
some mental disturbance
Such a powerful metaphor
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, I rather liked that one, too. 🙂
LikeLike
I love this. For some reason the unpaired wings especially touched me. Like socks but body parts. And like somebody else said, such a mundane thing but you have turned it into beauty and depth. So beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks. Glad you enjoyed reading it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a great combination of prompts. The image of flies and wings on the margin of the window sill is such a vivid reality. Well done!
LikeLike
Thank you very much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are welcome!
LikeLike
Oh, I could just imagine those delicate, abandoned wings lying in the dust of ‘the overlooked margins.’ There’s probably a few of those where I live, if I’m honest…
LikeLike
I don’t know why these critters can’t stay outside where they belong! LOL!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this poem, Marilyn, margin to margin! It’s a stunning two-for-one. There is such beauty in ‘unpaired wings and webs of grey lace and dust’, especially when they are ‘defused by the sun’s stare’. The shift to ‘mental disturbance’ is intriguing, and I’m so glad they were flicked into the overlookd margins of the garden. Lisa is right about you capturing the magic of the ordinary.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Kim.
LikeLiked by 1 person
great poem of two prompts
LikeLike
Great job incorporating dueling prompts. I think sometimes the smaller things in life are overlooked in the margins.
LikeLike
We might might live eighty years or a day,
Be all arms and legs and opposable thumbs
Or chitin and wings
Our leftovers gather
In nooks and crannies
We are not mainstream
Just dreams
And little things
LikeLike
Love the poem and the art
LikeLike
Thank you, Lona.
>
LikeLiked by 1 person