Meniscus
Meniscus
I balance a raindrop on my
fingertip, watch as it steps down
my hand and gets smaller with each
curve until all that is left is
a speck of the water it once was.
I hold my hand out, waiting for
another.
Notes
Notes
Below are some notes about this piece, including the thoughts and external inspirations that occurred during its creation.
Bear in mind, this is simply what I was thinking of when I wrote these poems and what they mean to me. If you interpreted them differently, that does not diminish how you felt as the reader nor the correctness/incorrectness of what you were thinking.
Meniscus [2024] is a short imagist poem starting in tetrameter (each line is eight syllables) before abandoning that metre in the last few lines. This was written during the very rainy May months; I had been sitting on my balcony after finishing my lunch and just meditated with the water and played with it on my hands. To me, this poem is reminiscent of playing with water when you’re a kid.
imagist
Below are some notes about this piece, including the thoughts and external inspirations that occurred during its creation.
Bear in mind, this is simply what I was thinking of when I wrote these poems and what they mean to me. If you interpreted them differently, that does not diminish how you felt as the reader nor the correctness/incorrectness of what you were thinking. Poetry is subjective, and so is being alive.
“Meniscus” [men-iss-cuss] is the curve that water gets when it touches something, like a mug or a glass.
