from his spy-place
he watched
he could see
into the house
the corridor
with bedrooms
off to one side
off
to the other
the comfort
of the lounge room
divan
recliner chairs
wall-mounted TV
through the dining area
and into the open kitchen
the back door
and outside yard beyond
empty now
but
soon
when they returned
when
things
began to happen
he would be watching
he cast his eyes
one last
preparatory time
around the scene
taking everything in
memorising
it was on this
the last review
that he noticed
located
subtly
halfway up the wall
that faced toward him
almost invisible
yet
immediately familiar
the minute blemish
that marked
unmistakably
a spy-hole
directed
at him
~
Poem #500 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.
Intriguing poem, Frank. An outsider looking in… seems a good basis for a novel!
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Alli, that would be something, but I do’t think I have the prose in me.
I have a few collections coming that are a little like serializations, but novel? Nope. not me, I don’t think.
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Congratulations on getting to 500 Frank, I remember 400 like it was yesterday!
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So. The next hundred, then …
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Onward and upward, another 500 to go!
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Nooooo. Not of this series, anyway. There might be another hundred. There are also a couple of hundred ‘shorts’ – seventeen syllables – but I don’t think I’ll post them.
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I think I remember you saying something similar at 400, when I said something similar ๐
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True, but all things must end sometime.
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I don’t know what ends are ๐
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Ha. Now I understand! LOL
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It’s like saying goodbye to an old friend, although I have to say sometimes they don’t feel like friends ๐
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Neat!
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๐
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๐ณ๐
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