Singing shells


Dark glasses in the sun hiding blindness

 I’ve been running ahead while looking back


collecting silent clues

I’m becoming a butterfly amongst the bees

winging it

as I find my way

down the dark passage

of singing shells


Finding a winter rhythm this year is a bit like being in a jerky elevator… laid plans, just get to the floor and open the door. The words coming slow in a weathered  suspension, collecting clues from poems becoming puzzles….meaning pivoting on just one word … the rhythm finding me in a slow molasses changing well- engrained routines, unsettling boundaries used to the intimacies of osmosis.

16 responses

  1. Wonderful poetry and gorgeous picture. ‘-running ahead while looking back’…how often we do this, but then you capture the moment with the butterfly, how apt to be winging it, intuitively. Love this Jana.


    • Thanks Tony… I just had a funny thought. “Finding a winter rhythm this year is a bit like being in a jerky elevator”
      Are you trying to tell me my rhythm is like elevator music? 🙂


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