Our writing exercise this morning consisted of using an object from a collection given to us to craft a character in a scene. My object was a small crystal paperweight, with multiple surfaces, giving a prismatic effect when viewed through, seeing multiple presentations of the viewed object.
So many voices, indistinguishable at first rise
By breakfast, a choir, not quite in unison
Its chorus coalesces to a chant,
cracks crescendo inside her skull,
Her breathing beats the rhythm of its rant.
Back and forth, until
exhausted she slumps,
cradled in her mother’s arms
and cries herself to peace.
© Sheila Ash, 2017
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