Golly gosh it's been busy, but I'm still stoned. Stoning?
All the details can be found here: http://ariverofstones.blogspot.com/
Here's January 8th to January 14th.
8
Just light, large snowflakes lie on the shoulders of my husband’s black jacket. One catches a fair eyelash. He looks at me through glass from a white world:
I’ve forgotten to unlock the front door again.
9
Banished, three hours solid snowplay has manifested twin snowballs
of prodigious proportions. I watch from the kitchen window; what else to do but try and climb on top of them? Successful, they stand proud, elevated:
my exclamation marks of red and green.
10
The scar is old, half-an-inch wide, and runs from earlobe to mouth corner,
smooth slash between dark stubble. The Encyclopedia of Things That Never Were lays open on his lap; he is drunk, too close and wants conversation.
I fixed stare out the bowel-train window, ‘Alight here for Tenement House’.
11
Buchanan Street: Frasers is glowing glorious, uplit vivid pink on a dirty night.
I feel a smile start on the inside: my eyes crease in the rain.
12
The seven rooks’ internal tape-measure has spaced them perfect,
equidistant along the telephone wire.
13
Up close, the puddle has a rippling rainbow diesel surface:
colour at last on this leaking, leaching day.
14
Starlings on parallel power lines make musical notation,
every minute changing tune.
See you on the Bus (breathe? On 20 a day?!)
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