Acknowledgements to ‘The Straits Times’ for use of this image.
The grain of wood in those slats of the venetian blinds
with sun and shadow from them chopped along her sleeve,
an intimate unfamiliarity, for the Venice outside she had
never been, having just arrived at her pensione dizzy
with sleep from an all night journey; the glass stopper
of her perfume bottle not put back shattering light around it
on the sheet of drawing paper she wished for friends to
float a pencilled gondola upon , a ‘wish you were here’ sketch,
having picked up the knack of blurring and filling spaces with
suggestion in childhood, that poisoned glade of hers.
The bundle of her washing, clothes anonymous with the touch
of other travellers brushed by on the way, she had dropped as
the lady owner pointed out just outside the door, and she told Continue reading “Lady of the Tides”