Posted tagged ‘Depressing roosting’


May 31, 2013



Sadness roosts on me,
brooding over
my ears; feathers, the stiff kind, tasting
of poke and copper and more dust
than a shaft of light could ever hope
to carry.
Eyes reach
for the motes
in their rafter downdrift
as if brilliance were
something that could be held
in dust, as if one might, in turn,
catch hold of it, as if it would still shine, caught.


Here’s a draft poem inspired by Victoria Slotto’s prompt on synesthesia at dVerse Poets Pub (Meeting the Bar), though, honestly, I don’t think I’ve at all displayed any synesthesia (confused senses) here, just confusion.