Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Point, prints and push.

1. At the first stroke, the sharp new point on my pencil pops and crumbles into a tiny constellation, black on white.

2. Dry morning. No-one in sight. Dew wet footprints on the path get fainter step by step.

3. One last push late at night to finish my day's proofreading.

Hot water bottle, Word Up and night sky.

1. The sighing glug of a hot water bottle filling, and the soft belch of air making room. 2. Spoken word night. The energy shifts from poet ...