It's Still Life

A Journal of Thoughts from Last Week

The I In It (a haibun)

How did these things receive such absolute names. Adam. Eve. Eden. My mother was always naming things. She would say “Wear the bee dress,” I was stung by a wasp whilst wear it. She had secret names for things, too. Whipper-snapper was a spiral whisk. Rubber-necking was when you looked around for your friends in church instead of listening to the sermon. A holy spoon (a metal slotted spoon) is what she used to hit me with (until I discovered that I could out-run her). But a name must satisfy. It’s a poet thing, I guess. I can give a button emotion, place things in dizzying positions, put them on a map, give them colour. But what colour is wind? What texture is Christmas. It is not a word that I seek, but an image. How does one describe the slow creeping dawn in January? Imagery. Just take one breath backwards, and you’re there.

The underside of leaves
Shadows dapple each new step
Sun angles through trees

Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.