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Poet Commentaries

Sticks, Stones and Nemo

It is hard to believe but this next poem was written while I contemplating bleached teeth that are just way too white.  Teeth, like the first stanza of this poem, need to contain the dirt of life.l, they were never meant to be “perfect”.  Every set of teeth tell us something and bleaching them is like spilling “white out” on the story.  

You will note I got sidetracked.  Just imagine you are staring at something stuck in someone’s tooth?  (my granddaughter does tend to distract)

Sticks, Stones and Nemo

she sat at the edge
with her stick
untangling Parrot Feathers,
writing her name in Duckweed
and tugging up knots of Algae,

wagging finger as bait,
she lured Goldfish
and gave them names

Little Elm leaf boats
with perfectly shrivelled hulls
loaded with three ants
and a potato bug
sent on a journey
to a land where Water Spiders
walk on water.
Over the rocks
nudged gently at that eddy.

So cute how she stiffens
and her face crinkles just so
in empathy of the waterfall.

Rock and pebble form ripples,
the spiders in a storm
still afloat
though their reflection
garbled

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