MD Kerr

Day 2

Free verse

Handwritten poem

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flourish

What was the question that caught
between the blue-lit bubbles before the boiling click
triggered me back to spoon familiar flakes and back to spreadsheets?
Something’s hiding in the cracks of the day,
nodding alongside the comfrey flowers’ dropping flutes.
A bumblebee roared its question towards me:
somewhere between
predicting its leaps with my loving glass
and releasing its streaking flight to a dot in the blue
I thought I knew
and forgot.
Tesco trolleys whisper while I’m dropping the coin in the slot
before I press play and pull out the list.
A distant gavel’s banging in the mist
which must be wrong: they don’t use those
in this country,
so maybe somewhere else
has whispers leaking through cracks
like Doctor Who.
The skirting boards are stained.
While the duster swipes its neat stripes
and a future self kneels with sugar soap
the question floats
up with the dust I’ve raised
lost in the blueing light, as the sun fades,
and the door needs a wash, too.
The radio’s navy-blue
handle strap falls on the aerial, crackling the six o’clock news
and the static speaks in staccato gloom of
children stabbed, cabinet wars, our handy guide to…
something, I don’t catch what
but it seems a lot, for one day.

Browning’s thread traced the Campagna,
he caught it in the brickwork’s cleft or in an orange cup.
It helps, to be Romantic.
The duster’s clagged with webs. I should wash that too.
And if I stop and lose myself
in the warm rhythmic water
washing it back to softness and pale blue,
what am I afraid to lose?

Thanks to napowrimo.net for their prompt to write a poem ending in a question. For content ideas, I used a Random Noun Generator to produce 10 nouns, wrote an association word for each one, then used my association words in the poem. (All except for "sex" – one of the random nouns must have been "potatoes"!)

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