Friday, September 6, 2013

Salt and light

I spilled the salt
but forgot to throw
some over my shoulder
so the grains lay quietly
on the tablecloth, the white
blending into starched
and ironed cotton white.

The salt began to sparkle,
vibrating against the cloth
as if the cloth was pulling
away from the table,
which it was. I heard
a woman at the next table

I spilled the light
upon the floor, and the rays
flooded across the unmapped
surface, the crumbs and dustballs
casting shadows for the first time.
I didn’t realize how invasive,
or revealing,  light could be.

Photograph by Peter Griffin via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

1 comment:

TubbyHippo said...

spray starch
misting over white cotton
hissing at the touch of a hot iron
pressing into soft cloth wrinkled
setting things straight