what is it like to lie in the attic concealed with the covering of dust upon the dust cover?

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what is it like to lie in the attic concealed with the covering
of dust upon the dust cover?

I’ll tell you: the nights come one on one the little stars rise
their eyes alight on the whitening shape
of me up there with the spiders and the carcases of moths
but I’m quite happy with my lucubrations, my stump of candle
the scratchy pen, the torn up cloth I use for writing, drawing
you won’t see my art- its all invisible, except the scrap
I’m working on, it takes me years to get the details right
but line on line and word on word the pieces come together
I’m making it slowly, there’s cosmology in my fingers
the stiller I lie and the smaller my movements-
the better the outcome
if you come up those wooden stairs, you won’t find me there
I am not discernible , I am wrapped in shrouds, I’m ectoplasm
shadows of shadows and beetles on the window pane
you’d think I was a worn out chair-
I ‘m up here waiting for moulds to erupt into flower
the cracks in the walls to whisper some secrets
I’ve got so little and I only want you
and you’re so slow coming, I wish you were here
sometimes I whine and whimper because I love you
that’s quite annoying-
especially for the visitors who are downstairs
sometimes I sing and that’s much better
then they knock upon the ceiling
shout ‘shut up, shut up!- o you noisy crow!’

 

In memory of Bart Wolffe 1952-2016
He  delighted in my work and in particular, this poem about exile and separation… and love.

This is from my book ‘Mortal’ which he edited.

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About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Lulu.com. Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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One Response to what is it like to lie in the attic concealed with the covering of dust upon the dust cover?

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