These Apparitions
The car is dappled with stars of frost,
cloves embedded in an orange.
Over the road, a black cloud of starlings
converges and pulls apart like velcro.
Here, let me obstruct that for you,
the morning says. I take up its voice
twenty-seven miles later, nearly miss
my exit for the new smoothness
of the road, orange construction signs
and cones extinguished, potholes
stubbed out. Out of everything I have not
seen today, this week, and ever,
why these apparitions. What do I volunteer
to my attention. What is hiding.
I like this a lot. It's thought-provoking.
ReplyDeleteThat second stanza creates a wonderful image. The unexpected "pulls apart like velcro" enhances it.
Starlings DO fly like that. Just like that. Well observed!
ReplyDeletethe road, the construction sites, the frost, the nearly missed exit all look prettier after you describe them...happy Thursday Hannah xx
ReplyDeleteVery fitting to the new year, I think.
ReplyDeleteVolunteering our attention, that is something I don't consider, the giving up of ourselves to point towards something else. I like it. Thanks, Hannah, for a well written, thought-inducing poem.
ReplyDelete