March 17, 2023 by petrujviljoen
It has always been words you turned to;
writing obliquely, with stealth as if a thief
writing with your back against the wall
writing from the rim of the abyss, stabbing
away at the page, piercing the same veil
over and over until the words sneak onto
the page, you stare, you’re surprised as
if it had nothing to do with you and you
turn away from your work so hard won
again you’re a fish out of the water, turned to
stone, sitting on the edge of the rock pool
staring at the unknown water.
Where does it come from? It’s a mystery. (K)
So much wonderful imagery. I particularly like the words stabbing the paper and staring at the unknown water.
We’ve all been there, at that edge staring into the tender-current.