is reading, thinking through Philip Larkins Born Yesterday, a poem. Eyes are fixed on books and books and pamphlets and more, all waiting to be read; poems and short stories and other write-ups also waiting, to be completed, revised, edited or simply, read. A little above books et al, on a mellow blue painted wall, are a few tabs of random reminders - to do-s; picture of a long, flare, flowing and rather colourful dress, which was jointly doodled by nephew and littlest sister. Beside drawing is a fancy wooden crucifix hanging on a sheer lacy fabric, with a flowery dial centre on which is inscribed both the verse and quotation, Joshua chapter 1, verse 9 : one of a year-or-so old souvenir/gift from my students. Meanwhile, a fridge hums away in the nearest room and from the backyard, in a nest of birds take turns scattering crisp dry fallen leaves and chirping their little frail lungs off. Some background this is... From outside, a distant grooving of Kwesi Pees Me nkoaa and closer by Grandmothers insistent pet talks weaves in and out of fragments of thoughts and smiles and introspection and all...
Posted on: Thu, 24 Jul 2014 16:48:10 +0000
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