Limbering
up
It’s a
cloudy morning in Mid-April
and after
my diurnal walk around the park
to stretch
my aging limbs
I return to
my travel room, as I like to call it,
the one
that has no actual function but performs several
and try to
find a suitable subject for Calliope or even Erato.
Scanning the
furniture, all of it second hand,
and therefore
resonant with narratives
the cabriole
legged table springs to the fore-
appropriate
enough since a cabriole
is a
scissors-like leap performed by a male dancer.
It was bought
in the forties or fifties
somewhere along
the
and sits
now, centre leaf fully expanded,
holding up
the internet and propelling me around the globe.
The sixties
woollen blanket thrown across the couch
with its
sombrero hatted figures, arms raised in what might be a Mexican wave
and legs
gyrating to the rhythm of a series of musical notes
projects me
into the upstairs room of a council house, circa 1967,
where I
played Gene Pitney in vinyl and pitied the dilemma
of his
spouse as he bailed out on her just 24 hours from
And apart
from all this time travel there are the various prints on the walls
Parisian bouquinistes
and Venetian canals, and postcards from friends
who actually
did travel-You get the picture.
So you see the
room may not be a suitable theme for poésie
but it’s
not called the travel room for nothing…
Copyright 2024 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment