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.