Tuesday, June 13, 2006

First Morning

Light’s first ochre daub,
brush of slivered sun.
Moist earth fragrant,
as first tea on tongue.
At first lap, up leaps cat,
where pencil broods
above a broad expanse.
First musing, first mark,
first unseemly word, evicted
by first diagonal slash.
So the world begins.


© Steve Isham June 2006

2 comments:

Cath said...

Love the onomatopoeia of the word 'daub'

ish said...

Thanks Cath. I have just played with the second line to link with the daub. Other linkages too. I think it is better now.