The Origin of Nouns
Antonia Clark
A cup, filled or not, fills
an emptiness
previously unseen.
The notion of a bowl,
all curve and rim,
shimmers, a mirage
at the edge of thought.
The world flickers in
and out of being—
a moving landscape,
a sky of dim stars
we look aside to see.
What self is it that steps
out of one river, into
another, that chooses
and calls forth?
Objects throw off light,
beg to be lifted and turned
in our hands, whisper
their names in the dark
and we repeat them.
Antonia Clark
works for a medical software company in Burlington, Vermont, and is
co-administrator of an online poetry workshop, The Waters. Recent
poems have appeared in The Chimaera, The Centrifugal Eye, The
Innisfree Poetry Journal, Mannequin Envy, The Pedestal Magazine,
Stirring, Umbrella, and elsewhere. She loves French food and
wine, and plays French café music on a sparkly purple accordion.