The Ferocity Of Silence

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Hey 🙂

When I read today’s words I just instantly thought of someone washing their hands, and what I ended

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up with pleased me – although it felt like the speaker was writing it, not me!

I think my line of thought was skewed by ‘ubiquitous’, as I have been thinking about people no longer in my life, what with the January ‘taking stock/looking ahead’ vibe that seems to creep up on me every year.

 

Wash   Thrill   Spare   Thick   Narrow   Ubiquitous   Fierce   Soggy   Typical

As I wash my hands –

Watch soap slip silently;

The thrill of cold water

Numbing to nothing –

I can see a spare sock

Stuck under the doorframe

Just a little bit;

The rest too thick to fit.

 

And our child, standing,

Staring at that sock;

Pondering his next move.

Flexing a narrow finger.

 

The weight of your absence

Is ubiquitous here;

A fierce silence, rent

By pointless everyday.

And I dry my hands

On a soggy towel,

Suddenly knowing that

I’m finished with typical.

 

Green-ness

I love the questions this poem throws up. 

 

I love the way it focusses on small things and then makes a big statement. 

 

I love how the washing of hands becomes symbolic of fresh starts and a letting go, the towel maybe signifying that the speaker’s tried before many times (it being soggy could also mean tears, and hark back to the ‘weight’ a few lines up) but is suddenly resolute.

 

I really don’t think I’d change much about my poem 🙂

 

What did today’s word generation make you think of?

 

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