For The Sunday Muse #178, hosted by the ever amazing Shay.
Truth is melting and I'm watching us drown
There's a concrete lip; there's always an edge
But I'm in the salt, in the water, in that gown
We're both edge people, both lurkers, quiet
So float the plate of appetizers gentle to me
We'll watch the waters dine, toast their diet
Maybe we'll find our edge, catch hold again
Find our footing in this new damp dance
Give the edge a final shove; kick into a spin
Clean these foundations by leaving them
Learn to breathe by remembering to swim.
-- chrissa
Clever, and I love how that spin ended up!
ReplyDeleteand thanks for the kind adjective at the top. :-)
AH, it is good to always have plastic tubs at hand!
ReplyDeleteI can relate to this poem greatly, especially after this week. We missed you last week, and I do hope that you are feeling better. Glad you were spared the plastic tubs and company. As always your poetry is deep and full of amazing images to think on.
ReplyDeleteStunning write. 'Truth is melting and I'm watching us drown.' - an arresting first line.
ReplyDeleteLuv the way you twerked your metaphor. And that opening verse - BRAVO!!!
ReplyDeleteTHANKS FOR DROPPING BY MY BLOG
much💖love
Loved it all, especially your first and last lines.
ReplyDeleteI can relate to your predicament. Glad your company never needed your room.
In my mind I saw two people floating on inflatable chaise loungers in a pool.
ReplyDelete'Edge people / lurkers' ~~~ conjures up all sorts of thoughts and images. As always, you give us lots to think about, Chrissa.
ReplyDeleteI was thinking of the recent rising waters and floods. Everything floating around and thankful for
ReplyDeletethe plastic tubs to keep things dry.
"
ReplyDelete"both edge people, both lurkers"
We sad side by side on the back row in Differential Equations. She never knew I had a crush on her, did she care for me? At any rate I won't forget her, scraggly hair, barefoot, a yellow dog staying at the stairs for her return, and smart as all get out, and nice. Does she remember me? I hope so but we won't meet again.
And I don't remember her name.
..
Oh yes, my dad lived to be 97 but he wouldn't come to Houston and live in our spare room. Neither would Mrs. Jim's mom but we kidnapped her and had a senior appartment for her in Conroe. She loved it.
Delete..
Great first line, and the rest does not disappoint. This picture says so many things, and I found it difficult to pick any out with clarity when I considered it, but you managed to do so perfectly. I love the images of breathing water, finding the edge, and watching the waters dine.
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