a woman and her rusty tools
unhinged

a sense of temporariness
sat down on a tree branch
thinking it is invisible
allowing me
to make a stamp
with my camera
and with a little help from Miss Holme
teaching me the most clandestine values
of inner light
while my eyes wander, I wonder
when I put my thoughts aside;
on days like today
there is no need
to solve all mysteries
today I am counting on
proven solutions
from writers, directors, and authors –
my best friends
in this profession
called Art
be it poetry
fiction, non-fiction, or a play
music, movie, painting, or a theatre
gently renovating
rotting rusty railing
grass paths
to step on it with new
updated scenarios
drawing blooming conclusions
filling my pockets
with hopes and fears
lying in the distance
yet unattended
without attention span
as it should be in order to follow the secret plan
of my unsettled brain
longing for change
in the synapse department
*
April – October 2022
***
Thank you for reading!
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where the wild roses grow full of words...
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Comments (1)
Simple elegance. "there is no need/to solve all mysteries" a whole chapter in eight words! (What kind of bird is in your image?)