. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . where ImagInatIon comes to play

Wednesday, 4 August 2010


I lay naked by the river bank, the summer breeze flitting and dancing on my skin until every hair stands at attention. Though I am alone, my body behaves bashfully, my spirit feels exposed.

In the wind, I could hear dragonflies sailing by, catching mosquitoes or mating perhaps. Otherwise, all is quiet except for the sound of my breath; in and out and in again, its voice catches me off guard. It has a life of its own, mine. I am here; I am alive. And the proof is in my breath.

I lay still, solitary, on the bank of the muddy river, when the news of my life is delivered to me on the tail of a wind waltzing by.


stuart said...

one of the things you do so well as a writer is develop images - sometimes in steps (like a series of photos), sometimes in layers (like an exploratory walk along a pathway), sometimes in an extended "zoom out" - that lead us to your thesis...again, you have succeeded...I think this process is so natural for you and I really think it's one of the things that define you as a writer ... I think you should keep it up

Anthony Duce said...

This is great, so easy to connect too. I find myself in the same state very often these days.

Oddyoddyo13 said...

Loved this quiet, peaceful moment. :)