Friday, 13 April 2018

white phantom in the parking lot


by early afternoon ...
the day
which had begun
anomalously
to the sound of pelting hail
on window pane

 – awakening me
hours before
I had planned
to awaken –

pitter-pattered on
in misty raindrops
and the groggy vestiages
of a hard night's sleep
– cut short –

and I found myself –
as I rested in the car
while he ran down
the last of the errands –

in that space
I imagine
is preliminary to
out-of-body

where perception
becomes that
of spectator
in a waking dream –

I was about to

lay my head back
with the aim
of a catnap when

I spied
a  white plastic  bag
in the drizzle

 ... floating and spinning ...
above the parking lot –

I half closed

my tired eyes and
the empty bag
became 

as ethereal as
a phantom –

it soared
and twirled
landing
in grand jetés
amongst
the cars and bins and
rows of shopping carts –


taking
mesmerizing – 
flight again 
and again

until at last

it was captured
by a gust of wind
and carried up

and up ... and up ...
higher and higher –

by then

I had forgotten
it was just
an empty bag –

and I went with it ...
for a time


photo: White Phantom in the Parking Lot   - W. Bourke

© 2018 Wendy Bourke

20 comments:

  1. I enjoyed this, Wendy. Seems a bit like stream of consciousness to me. We've had that pelting hail here too recently, which is depressing. I like imagining the journey of that white bag blowing in the wind!

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  2. Love the ending...beautifully done.

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  3. Reminded me of the scene in American Beauty where the camera fixed on the rubbish blowing in the wind..a great testimony to being in the moment

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    Replies
    1. I remember that scene, Jae! It also reminds me of a poignant scene in The Bridges of Madison County, where Clint Eastwood's photographer caharcter is sitting in his car in the rain watching the Meryl Streep character with her husband.

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  4. Definitely stream of consciousness! I love the way it starts not at the beginning but
    'by early afternoon ...
    the day
    which had begun
    anomalously...'
    I like the use of the hyphens and ellipses, and especially love the lines:
    'pitter-pattered on
    in misty raindrops
    and the groggy vestiages
    of a hard night's sleep'
    and
    'it soared
    and twirled
    landing
    in grand jetés
    amongst
    the cars and bins and
    rows of shopping carts'.

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  5. I think it is good to be so distracted by such an event to realize the whole Earth is alive and living and all we have to do is observe and enjoy instead of being obsessed with mundane things (mostly electronic!).

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  6. I recall being so tired that even the most commonplace of things took on almost a mystical feel, and it was all too easy to get lost in observing them.

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  7. I can relate to the feeling, Wendy and love "perception becomes that of spectator in a waking dream."💞 Powerful write.

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  8. I love the becoming a spectator in a waking dream......and the bag's flight is mezmerizing. Reading this gave me that same feeling.

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  9. I have been in this place of consciousness, drifting with the wind and the billowing bag. It is symbolic in many ways. There is a weightlessness surrounding the bag, letting go of baggage that holds us down. I imagine you drifting in that moment a sense of inner freedom.

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  10. i have seen these drifting plastic bags too, maybe they are a fixture of the urban environment? :)
    in a way, they are lost too.

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  11. Lovely as the poem is, I can't quite enter into it as I am always anxious about the harm stray plastic bags can do to birds and other creatures. Sorry!

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  12. I enjoyed this ... there are times when I drift into a stream of consciousness especially in my more mature years :)...

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  13. Luv the transion for real to surreal. Thank you for taking us there, Wendy


    Much🌼love

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  14. "Landing in grand jetes" and "soaring up and up" are captivating phrases. What a delightful reverie!

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  15. I could picture and feel these words so easily....it seems I have these stream of consciousness times and out of body experiences when I am most tired. I loved the 'grand jetes'.

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  16. A waking dream...a lovely capture.

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  17. "...I had forgotten
    it was just
    an empty bag –
    Profound!
    ZQ

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  18. This poem is so beautiful, so mystic. I flew with it higher and higher.

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