1. She held out her hand Upon her palm a tiny lizard, a skink A shining dark olive back – thin yellow strip along the sides Iridescent blue-aqua beneath its chin Beautiful “It’s dead” said Petra as she held it aloft by the tail – and it was I looked into its eye and saw right through to the verdant bush beyond The tangled twigs and rocks – a land of nooks and tasty creatures “Most likely where this lizard is now” I thought as I peered through the eyeless window I remembered to breathe – brought myself back The sounds of this world filling my ears as I returned from reverie and soft melancholia Into the light - the present 2. She made a small home for the lizard A little box lined with tissue and care The tiny claws catching still – a feeble anchor it looked like it would dart away in a flash but it already had Discarding this garment long ago a once animate husk Beating and alive
(GD @ Ness May 2012)
Very well written. It reminds when I was a child of how my sisters and I found a dead bird and decided to give it a grand burial. we placed carefully into a box much as this lizard lay in. The box we put into a large bag with all the cushions we could find. With that we solemnly in single file wound our way to some imagined burial ground. Our mother viewing this procession halted us in our tracks, asked what we were doing and proceeded to confiscated all our cushions of comfort leaving us with merely a box to bury. Such was our first funeral!!
I can just see your Mum’s reaction! “What’s in the bag? Cushions! Oh OK … AND A DEAD BIRD!” Thanks for sharing 🙂
A nice story…
(and to answer you: no i can’t and don’t wanna fudge- what do you mean by the way ???)
!-)
Thanks Pascale. In your post I didn’t know what questions were coming … exam, life …didn’t know so I thought to make light of the questions … at least I thought it was light … it sounded light in my head 🙂
I hope I wasn’t being rude. That simply would not do. 🙂
Figé dans la blancheur de l’écrin – sarcophage de carton et de Sopalin – un geste qui s’interrompt, un élan rompu. Autour : la pierre noire, le monde comme un soleil qui s’éteint.
Google translate version: Frozen in the whiteness of the box – cardboard coffin and Sopalin – a move that stops, momentum broken. Around: the black stone, the world as a sun that is dying.
Marco … thank you for your verse … perfect!
Google translate version: Marco … je vous remercie pour votre verset … parfait!
You have an amazing way with words and I love how you combine these with your images. Love my visits to your blog.
I love that you love your visits … that I have something to offer 🙂
beautiful poem, even tho I’m glad I didn’t read it first thing in the morning…
Thank you. The poem’s about a different Petra by the way 😉
Too much for the morning … for the start of the day?
..the tiny claws still catching…
great. Wonderful poem and image.
Thank you … I love those lines too 🙂
Such tender respect .
Thank you Judith 🙂
A beautiful composition of picture and words. I like that you placed the box ind what it seems to be a naturally formed crate in stone and the little one really looks lite it would be running away any moment now.
About a year ago, while hiking in the Natural Bridges National Monument in Utah, U.S. I sort of stumpled of a little lizard as well. In my surpise I took a quick picture and when I wondered while it was not rushing out of my way, I noticed that a piece of it’s tail was missing and there was some blood on the ground. The poor thing was dead, probably killed by somebody who hadn’t seen it, and I just couldn’t bear to keep the picture. So in a way, your picture can be a memory or memorial of this little lizard from the other end of the world. I like the idea.
That’s a beautifully sweet and tender story … thank you for letting me be a part of it too, I don’t think the lizard in mine will mind the story of yours 🙂
Beautiful, Geoff. I like your poetic mind, combined with your creative images!
Thank you Ginnie … it makes feel good to do both 🙂