Todays written thoughts of sights and sounds from the Smithy... 23rd September The Smithy Sitting in the Smithy I cannot think what to write, my semantic friends of rhyme and reason seem distant almost hidden, I search for them, but they are not there, my conjoined verbs and consonants, my pregnant pronouns of subjective hieroglyph... I pear from within my Smithy at the life running headlong in all directions, north, south, east and west to where I dont know, Porsche, Bentley and Jag rubbing rubber with Ford, Fiat and Ferrari... I can see through the open wooden doors, two of the four lanes that now end at an automobile merry go round, the horn blowers meeting place, percussive exhausted notes of the internal infernal engine combust upon my ear, both assaulting and quickening my senses, I can see from my seat through the Smithy door autumnal oaks just at the point of no return, shimmering in the fading light of this midd September early eve, their emerald cloaks fading, as the last of the four seasons approach and the third act of this years life pears from behind summers closing curtains
Posted on: Sun, 22 Sep 2013 16:58:41 +0000
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