Casting It
What you said to me floated across our gulf
As it did, it split in soggy ways
Like bread among hungry ducks
Truth came out of those wet scraps
It was a little bug that hovered there
Moving on the surface under its own speed
Amazing and frightening to us both
We watched it on our knees, grubby children
Waiting to see what would happen next
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Author's Note
I was inspired to write this after having the truth revealed to me in an unexpected way.
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mysterious note...compelling images. "grubby children" in this context most arresting. love it.
Marcus, thank you kindly for your careful reading and thoughtful response.
love the image of grubby children on knees in anticipation, waiting & watching this scrappy nugget of truth. and i like not knowing what that is --
well wrought
Thanks, Sarah. I am glad the image spoke something to you.
I appreciate you time and comment, Con.
This has a real earthy touch that goes with the underlying wrath of this poem. I esp like the soggy bread, wet scraps
*
Susan, thank you for seeing my poem, as opposed to simply reading it.
The bug of truth, eh? Reminds me of Yeats' "long legged fly."
"it split in soggy ways / Like bread among hungry ducks"
Nice!
You are quite kind in your comment, and very encouraging.