A poem with synchronicity

Perfect Right Here

Apricot light, through floral lace,
dappled flowers cast bold shadows,
she looks.

The sharp chin of her old cat rests
in the crook of her bent elbow,
they sit.

Red cushions pulled close to keep out
the fading twilight, a light is
switched on.

In the kitchen a casserole
bubbles, a smell of India
spreads out.

The dog is waiting for his walk,
impatiently pawing his lead,
he barks.

The doorbell rings, a door-to-door
salesman selling the Internet,
sent off.

She squints at the quinachrome gold
stream over her clouds, a counter
to cold.

The glaze is working, changing light
a perfect warm atmosphere
right here.






14 thoughts on “A poem with synchronicity

  1. A picture of uninterruptible domestic bliss? A picture nonetheless; a very comfortable picture and, I have to say, a delightful one at that. A marked change from the all the usual angst and deeply analytical stuff that we writers tend to set forth. Thank you, Marousia.

  2. Can you define quinachrome for me? ๐Ÿ™‚ That stanza doesn’t seem to quite fit with the others. The others end with actions that jolt you to the next setting, ending comfortably in “right here”. I feel like perhaps maybe if I understood the meaning it would make sense where it is. Don’t mean to be negative–I like this poem ๐Ÿ˜€

    • Gold quinachrome is a type of watercolour pigment that is renowned for its transparent qualities. It can be used as a glaze over an existing painting to give it warmth – much like using a warm filter in photography. The last two stanzas are linked together ๐Ÿ™‚ Thank you for your question ๐Ÿ™‚

  3. Nice story, I really liked it.

    “The glaze is working, changing light
    a perfect warm atmosphere
    right here.”

    Was my favorite. Keep it up ๐Ÿ™‚

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