Strange, calm, hub, all of a sudden I’m here.
There’s a presence here I feel, but do not fear
I am reminded of the time we had together
Strolling, sitting, laughing; a portrait of Heather
In her happier days. Before everything, all
Like the petals of a tulip past its best
Or a paper slowly burning in the fire
Its black edges flashing, occasionally, to red.
Like gypsy traffic lights on her inner road.
This is a collective poem from the Literary Potlatch, written by the participants on the day, with each of them only able to see the previous line. At present, the image accompanying it is a stock photo but we would really love someone to respond to the poem visually, as only an original image can possibly do it justice. Full credit will of course be given. Please email email@example.com if you’re interested in creating something special we can share. Thank you.
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