Barely tangible memories
Exasperatingly placed
So far apart,
Can you fathom this eccentricity?
Buffeted by the solace of the singular mind.
As my dreams give up and take
A different turn,
Motivationally dead,
Pale blues, yellows and greens just
hanging about
From the backs of chairs,
Wisps of their yarn
Trailing across the dusted floor.
And at the grimy sink,
An orange kitten drowns
In dishwater stone cold.
Fuzzy, bright, warm, playful beauty
Drifting in the minor current,
Catching shafts of undersea light,
Grit, like diamonds, floating sleepily
His fur wafts gently side to side,
Glassy eyes once filled with light,
Now ever open, unseeing.

December ’04


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This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

Constructive critique is actively encouraged!

I am usually singing words as well as writing them, and make lots of other art. You can find me & my other art at any of the below links. x





All content on this blog © Rebecca Tilley, 2003-present

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