Creative Work: Poetry “Windows” by Boyana Petrovich

Words, Pauses, Noises features a duo post this weekend. The measure of Creative Workscreative writing teems on the hemline of time and does so with such gravity in the drawn instants of a poem. Follow the minutes in these two poems, steady yourself on the cadence of each work and admire the way in which words can remove you from your present but widen your perceptions all at once. A welcome and inspiring return from Boyana Petrovich and Neil Horabin.  


By Boyana Petrovich  

London is a Renaissance painting

framed in the white plastic of my window.


Cars and busses inching across

Hammersmith Bridge in the distance lull

my heavy eyelids.

In the bottom right corner, caressed by

the gingko tree –  cumulonimbus

in your savvy sash.

Behind your expanding desk,

hiding your shadow in the bulging drawers,

are you watching back?

You say: ‘They think it’s black, but it’s with stars

and distant galaxies this coffee I’m drinking.’

When daylight is subdued by irony clouds,

when the air is saturated and hard to breathe in

and the window swells with grand gloom

I sit down. I stay still.

It must be windy. Birds are floating like kites.


Read the second Sunday post by Neil Horabin


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