Dec 2015
IF WE SHADOWS....
It was as if
a cloud had fallen asleep
in the lower field.
It had already eaten
an unhitched wagon
and half a red barn.
It watched us approaching
from the yellow windowed house
where the babies lay asleep
blowing spit bubbles.
It seemed to smile in a
giant grey candy floss way and then
started in on
first you and then
me or what
was left of me that I could see.
It had eaten all of you
except your excited voice.
All you could see of me
was my nervous laughter.
We had been evicted from
our known selves
and there was no known
forwarding address.
We were all points of
the compass at once.
“Moo!” commented a cow
on the situation at hand.
And “Moo” mimicked the cloud
having had
eaten everything.
There was no place to live
except inside our thoughts
and our thoughts
walked our bodies
towards the barn that
like Mr. Schrödinger's cat
was either there or
either not.
“Moo!” said a moo.
“Moo!” said another moo.
One moo almost the clone
of the other.
We had arrived.
We were now here.
Suddenly our arms legs and other
bits of our bodies was
returned to us
thanks to a light switch
that made us in our own
image.
We owned ourselves again.
The cloud was sleeping
in the field.
One could almost imagine it
snoring.
I clapped my hands together.
“Ok!” I said
“…let’s get on with
the milking!"
It was as if
a cloud had fallen asleep
in the lower field.
It had already eaten
an unhitched wagon
and half a red barn.
It watched us approaching
from the yellow windowed house
where the babies lay asleep
blowing spit bubbles.
It seemed to smile in a
giant grey candy floss way and then
started in on
first you and then
me or what
was left of me that I could see.
It had eaten all of you
except your excited voice.
All you could see of me
was my nervous laughter.
We had been evicted from
our known selves
and there was no known
forwarding address.
We were all points of
the compass at once.
“Moo!” commented a cow
on the situation at hand.
And “Moo” mimicked the cloud
having had
eaten everything.
There was no place to live
except inside our thoughts
and our thoughts
walked our bodies
towards the barn that
like Mr. Schrödinger's cat
was either there or
either not.
“Moo!” said a moo.
“Moo!” said another moo.
One moo almost the clone
of the other.
We had arrived.
We were now here.
Suddenly our arms legs and other
bits of our bodies was
returned to us
thanks to a light switch
that made us in our own
image.
We owned ourselves again.
The cloud was sleeping
in the field.
One could almost imagine it
snoring.
I clapped my hands together.
“Ok!” I said
“…let’s get on with
the milking!"
Shadows look curiously 3-D in fog....and more real than us...I was thinking of Shakespeare's lines lost in the mists of my mind and walking with my little Tilly to milk the cows and see the new calf that had only arrived the other night. She had rushed in to tell me that there was a cloud fallen in the field and it was asleep. It was the first fog she have ever seen and this was her reasoned argument for it. We had to use the words "Fog, Lost, Directionless, Echo and Homeless" for the ideas to latch onto in the poem but not used the actual words themselves....say them without saying them....this was my attempt at doing that.
(Guildford)
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