SoulStreams
Stream-of-Consciousness
Writing
Predawn Silhouette
Thoughts flow from
moment to moment-
- 5:24 AM and
sleep evades;
darkness still
cloisters my world
rain spatters on
the rooftop in scattered showers and
splattered
downfall, symphony heralding the mood of
the morning
a rain-day, wet
and grey, where dampness permeates the air…
a pre-winter
dampness that steeps into my tobacco, curls my hair to impossible tangles;
Increments of
light filter through weary lace curtains, first too faint to see
I now notice hazy
tree-shapes still in predawn silhouette
and the corner of a dirty brick building;
stained bricks no
amount of rain will clean…
6:20 Am… first
light…kookaburras laughingly greeting the morning
as rain and cloud
and tones of cold grey seep in through the window, my portal
to the world and
the untouchables beyond; what epic adventures unfold beyond my domain?
A little color
now… cream-stained bricks… light sky surreal white… trees deep olive-grey…
the man downstairs
wakes, I hear him start the shower, that whining that passes through aged
pipes. And just like that I hear him get out again, as waterpipes complain once
more. Always amazed am I by the neighbours micro-showers… does he even get wet?
Outside now
lighter than my room where dusty shadows cling to cluttered corners, piles of
books
look almost like
city buildings in the gloom… pedestal fan a monument to energy use, and the
poor design of this unit… only two opening windows allow little airflow… and suddenly the cottage comes to mind… the
cottage with its treescape and birdsong and windows flung open wide… I lived
there, for a time …. its seems so long ago now….
Sharonlee©26-May-12