This morning, I waited in the half-light for a bus that finally arrived 40 minutes late: there was no one about, and the only noise was the rain, an occasional car and a few birds. It gave me plenty of time to think, though it was too wet to get a notebook out to try and capture any of the ideas.
(I suppose I could record memos on my phone, but how you’re supposed to skim through an audio file later, I don’t know.)
Mind you, I actually believe that writing a thought down too soon can ‘fix’ it before it is ready, and I may carry a phrase or image round in my head for days or weeks, occasionally even years, before I finally anchor it to the page.
Perhaps I should keep these ideas on ice, then, until I have had time to mull them into shape, playing with the sounds in my head, tasting them, treading out their metre etc.; but it’s been a couple of weeks since I posted anything poetic to the blog, so I’m going to risk fixing them here. I hope one day they will find their way into a ‘proper’ poem; for the moment they are yet more ‘fragments’.
Westwards, along the High Street,
three by three, the street lamps
click to grey
A flock of starlings
strafe the village:
ka-kaow, ka-kaow, ka-kaow