Monday, April 19, 2010

Understanding Apothesia

That was the moment he realized
most people don't experience the scarlet of tulips
as C-flat on a trombone. Or the sound of a train-whistle
as soft and electric, like a cat's fur in dry weather.

It was like a knife cleaving through the world.
It was a bomb blast shattering a continent of sensation
into an archipelago of senses. It was as sudden
as the door that slammed on his hand

with the sharp smell of gunpowder and the taste of brass.
Singleness of sensation—he grasped it—
just for a moment, then let it go to listen
to the deep mauve sounds the wind was making.

--for Read Write Poem's NaPoWriMo prompt #19: light bulb moment
Collection available! Knocking from Inside

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