he held his broom
bristles up
to count them
to check them
to see
that they were
straight and strong
he checked
for pliability
for density
he found them
good
and he began
as he always began
in what seemed to him
a corner
a place
that seemed
logical
to begin
there is a rhythm
to sweeping well
a method
to the art
and the sound
sha
sha
is regular
is constant
in its depth of sound
and when a man
can find
that perfect pace
he can sweep
right through the hours
of night
and so he swept
from his beginning place
getting in
behind the dark
and where he swept
you could see
that he had passed that way
for each pull
of the broom
each sweep
in that rhythmic way
brought a little night
with it
left a little
day behind
as he moved along
the sun rolled in
filling every space
he had worked through
he swept
he swept
the whole dark night
away
so
that’s a job well done
so
that will hold light
for awhile
so
until another day
has passed
and when the new night
is deep and dark
when it seems
it will never end
he will take his broom
for a bristle count
a straightening check
the density
sha
and
sha
sha
sha
and
sha
he will sweep
the daylight back
again
© Frank Prem, 2017
October 2017 Poem #11: the man becomes what he always was
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Another great description. I like the way you use sound
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Thanks Derrick. It feels necessary, to me, to try to represent what I hear – to let the reader have a little idea of it as well.
So glad you enjoyed the piece.
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Love this. Foundation myth-making 🙂
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Hey Claire. Thank you. I’ve enjoyed playing with mythological themes. Inspiration for this was buried in Tolkien. Delighted you enjoyed it.
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I know that sha sound. There is a lot of sweeping in barns. You have described the movement and the rhythm so well.
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I can imagine there’s sweeping enough to go around, Anne. It’s a sort of wet sweep, to my ears, at least – like a scrubbing of stone or concrete.
Gald you enjoyed.
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