names that are
A world peopled with words that are direct and unreified.
A story of animals, and things - tiger leaping, seven star, green sun and black dragon - whose furry stripes, sparks, colours and scales get under my skin when I hear and speak them, and move among them.
A child outside in the middle of the lane sits on a little stool with his feet in a bucket having his evening bath.
What is his name? It is Tiger Ice.
Another child is practicing moon river on the violin in the cubby hole shop on Wu Yi (the first of May) street.
Another child is practicing moon river on the violin in the cubby hole shop on Wu Yi (the first of May) street.
Propriety and sophistication are nowhere.
These thoughts come to me as I walk home on a summer evening down one hundred year old bridge street. I walk towards the sound of crackly tape recorded flute music. My neighbours dance around a dry fountain in
the dark outside my house.
posted by jacqueline b at 10:30 AM
3 Comments:
...I walk towards the sound of crackly tape recorded flute music. My neighbours dance around a dry fountain in
the dark outside my house.
Those lines are so powerful, Jacq. Such a strong image; so much depth there. Congratulations.
really waxing poetical aren't we jacq.....great to see. more please.
somehow, the image of this chinese child playing moon river on the violin, strikes me as both endearing and rediculous.
pete, you mean your neighbours don't do that?
adagio, you should hear him labouring through strangers in the night.
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