One summer I was listening to the radio while reading old poems and suddenly the time when I started talking as a toddler, the beginning of langauges in human history and the poem connected in some strange way
The summer wind blows through my window
while I’m reading old notebooks.
The yellow curtains moving
creating light and shadows on the floor,
on the page with an old poem
about loosing a balloon in the wind.
Early memories;
remembering the dust in the light
from the kitchen window.
My first words were pure sounds
like dustglittersongs.
The radio is on
and a professor says that
languages started in the area
around Lake Victoria.
While I read the poem
I can see waves on the lake.
They are disappearing
like chalk on a professor’s blackboard
when he is erasing the interpretation
of a poem of a dead poet.
Filed under: Poems, poet, poetry | Tagged: Poems, poet, poetry
I really like, ” were pure sounds
like dustglittersongs” and the analogy in the last section.
I will read more
Nicely done. You’ve done a good job of capturing and expanding the moment. Thanks.
I really like the last few lines of this. Beautiful
Some good imagery here.
This really captured my imagination, thanks for sharing.