Day 7 - A Poem

A few weeks ago a friend and I went to a "progressive performance art" show, which was... interesting... and one of the pieces was titled "Residue of a Day." The actual dance/video piece was fairly forgettable, but I was struck by the title. What is, after all, the "residue" of a day? What's really left? It ocurred to me then that the title would make a good creative writing exercise - what do think of when you hear that phrase? In a very rough first draft, here's my answer.


Residue of a Day

Sticky happiness
Like jam-fingers catching blown kisses
Salty sorrows
Like rainspots on an early-spring window
Silty disappointment
Like sand-dust drifted under a crooked door
Spicy laughter
Like cooking scents coloring and warming the air
Slippery dreams
Like half-remembered songs that fade in shifting light
Silky memories
Drifting over raised fingers, colored lights and snatches
of song woven into a plush cloth that drapes
and shelters and warms
with love.


What comes to mind for you?

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In other news, today I have Sarah Palin hair.