A young crow carries them-
selves meticulously, screening
their surroundings. Too wary
to engage with others, but
always so observant.
A golden jewel shines in a
parking lot corner. Tempting
the young crow’s eyes. Their
bill clutches on, fragile by
nature, it breaks.
Glass shards pierces their
tongue, blood cascades on-
to the concrete as the jewel
dismantles. Remnants of a
once pretty rock remain.
Lackluster caws transcends to
inconspicuous woes through
menacing thunder circulating
the floaters, ignoring their
cries.
Drizzles of rain deafening
continuous yelp, a dash of
salt soaking their insides,
their shadow scatters
far away.
Categories:
floaters, bird, conflict, desire, environment,
Form: Free verse
The tiny specks grow titanic tension.
They’re often harmless,
Google consoles her.
Yet a rare chance burns beyond solace.
Is it a harbinger of retinopathy?
Will her eye-LEDs illuminating soul be burnt out?
Will tomorrow be void of light and colors?
As she moves her eyes,
the eye floaters drift,
weaving a cobweb of questions.
If the sense dominating her brain fumbles and falls,
the eye sockets will be graves.
Precious sights from her memory lane will haunt her.
She loathes retreating into the dark burrow
like a greater bandicoot rat in the daytime.
Later,
an eye chart and a slit lamp efface her optical anxieties.
‘Life floats across a variety of blurring things,’
she muses and smiles.
Eye Floaters are spots in vision, like black or gray specks, string or cobweb.
First published in The Literary Hatchet (Issue 30).
Categories:
floaters, inspirational,
Form: Free verse
To begin
All words are
Empty..
No matter
How used..
Words are
Floaters on
Their own
Emptiness..
And all are
Equally empty..
Pulls the rug
From words
Seeming to
Elevate or depress..
Yet their expressive
Power tells the
Stories of
Lives unfolding...
Categories:
floaters, word play, words,
Form: Light Verse
Whene'er a thought floats into my head
Either I pen a poem or put it to bed
Once in bed, the thought wants out
To pen a poem ~ That I doubt
Categories:
floaters, poems, sleep,
Form: Couplet
Have you heard about fishing for turds …
It’s for children and maybe for nerds
For brown floaters you’ll fish
Or there's nets which you swish
For once I’m almost lost for words!
My granny was shocked and appalled
Suggesting this toy be blackballed
Cos small kids may copy
Real poo’s (firm or sloppy)
If this happened I think I’d be galled
Thanks to my super friend Sundae for telling me about this toy!
09/15/20
Categories:
floaters, children, fishing, games,
Form: Limerick
scrawling on the party napkin in my mind — celebration of words
1/4/2020
Categories:
floaters, words,
Form: Monoku
Vacant but for
minute shadows,
I’d mistaken
for clouds
our sky has lied
again; it is
only blue;
chastely blue.
No longer do you
wait secretly
behind celestial
skeins of dust.
You are only in my eyes.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
September 16, 20012
Categories:
floaters, loss,
Form: Free verse
my
myodesopsia
acts up when my eyeball moves in a certain
direction---
the floater throws a
shadow on my retina & i
want to swat it away like an annoying fly,
but it sits there,
blocking out a wee bit of the image that i stare at,
trying to make my way through it,
but alas,
i am at the beckoning will of this miniscule pile of
eye
trash,
and after a while of trying to avoid it,
looking all around the room &
staring at absolutely nothing monochromatic---
i grow bored with the whole process &
go about my
day.
Categories:
floaters, life
Form: Free verse