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Photo by Ré Harris

Cup of water
broken glass
pencil scribble.

Open door
rusted screws
whiff of smoke.

Phantom sin
bite radius
missing peace.

Empty dish
dream undone
tangled hair.

Storm’s eye
furrowed brow
words brewed.



6 thoughts on “Brew

    • You’ve really got me thinking about the kinds of basic personalities that exist (and the permutations of combinations that must also exist) and how they might experience different types of writers work. I’m fascinated by the subject and understanding more each day that writers may not be able to get around it. Of course I still want to try sometimes, just for the hell of it. 🙂

      This poem was my attempt at paring down and letting images that illustrate aspects of the subjects (for me) speak without overexplaining them, or overexplaining them so opaquely that I and others could get frustrated by the lack of communication. I’ve also been reading more poetry lately and trying to stretch within what interests me.

      Thank you much for the feedback, Jessie. I’m so glad there was something in the combinations that did work for you.

  1. I like this, Ré, a lot. It’s refreshingly different. Every single line concocts its own, visceral image; yet, strung together, they give way into the mind of the writer and how she might process and/or make use of the stimuli around her.

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