This is not what I meant to say

Wild flowers grow along the road, they fill the air with pollen, a spray so thick they change the colour of the morning, make the words go blur, a curve disappear, a line smudge.

Leaves burn under the bridge where water should flow. The wood smoke, wisp of blur chokes the sky. Words are stranded in the hazy column so that I speak with a voice I do not recognise.

Every word I lay as offering burns into ash that blows away and settles on the brown grass. My mouth is caked in silence; the script forming in my head is a squiggle of rumours.

Who would want a poem that burns away words, leaves message truncated – a poem that would negate the moon nights we were together? I hold his gaze, reach for his hand and apologise, ‘This is not what I meant to say.’

Poem A Day: Prompt from Molly Fisk ‘This is not what I meant to say’

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s