not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

in light and shadow

it was a winter night
when he lit the candles
and set down his book.

i sat still
watching the match
struggle against the bureau top.
it raised its head like a bruised man
toward the heady flames,
not wanting to be extinguished.


  1. oh this saund like a last suffering... so strong and (but) so tender

    I like the shot very much too Erin

  2. "I sat still...
    That match is being witnessed:"like a bruised man...not wanting to be extinguished."

    So much in this scene, I want to cry out. Then, I wait in silence too, for the next moment to arrive.

    There is both sadness and anticipation here.
    Is that what life is?
    Are we always between moments of light and shadow?
    Are we taking our eyes from the animate to the inanimate and embody both with life?
    What a burden to be alive, and what a joy too.

    (sorry,this is a show stopper for me today.)

  3. laura, it is suffering, isn't it, and the same suffering somehow is our gift.

    rosaria, yes. yes. yes.

    do you know how paternal i feel toward matches? everyone seems to be all about the candles. i feel pain for the poor brief powerful match.



"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))