he watches her sleeping
in his hand a glass sphere is cradled, smoke-filled.

voices burrr – heard yet unconnected
ullulating glimmers play on the surface
stirring with her every breath
swirling impatiently for spring.

Mamu, cloudbound – hopes for company


5 Responses

  1. Ebby, you are a genius of the language, when you say ‘ullulating glimmers’ i swear i can see that glass ball in those sounds. And the poem is simply perfect, a sense of almost anticipation but of patience too. You are simply beyond anyone else in your ability to weave literal magic in words.

  2. Oh Ebby, I am so sorry. I edited in your tag and category and the indent on some lines dissappeared and I don’t know what they were. I am so sorry, but the poem is still exquisite, and it makes me so happy to see Mamu transported, you have imbued him with a sense of majesty,

  3. Gorgeous, instantly transporting.

  4. Uncle, do not worry, the dents come and go as they please and it never matters to me.
    Thank you for your kindwords, I know you mean them.

  5. evocative of a hope…waiting…

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