Poem #63 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.
Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction
this one?
ah well
this one
he spoke
with deep timbre
in a voice
resonant with understated pride
this was one that I first saw
a half a glimpse
in a twist of sunlight
then gone
not sure I was fully awake
at the time
but I knew
I had to chase it down
for hours
all through a day
I tried to see it
to feel it or hear it
to conjure it
when I slept that night
I dreamt it
real as real
but when I woke
it was gone
left me bereft
truly it did
eventually
I had to look away
to attend other matters
other deeds
and then
days later
it was suddenly there
in front of my eyes
without thinking
I thrust a hand out
and clasped it
so beautiful
so delicate
I immediately forgot everything else
of course
set to work to pin it properly
to the page
so it wouldn’t escape me again
it’s unique
you know
he looked down
at the pages
laid open before him
every one of them
is unique
and elusive
I think that’s why
I love them so much
every one
an original
and only I
can catch them
© Frank Prem 2017
Bachelard and me Poem #64: see that
Nice. Sometimes I think of a phrase, don’t write it down, then forget it. Sometimes it comes back
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Same here Derrick. Catch it right away of it’s gone.
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