What is more real
A pastel reflection
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What is more real
Pastel-pink clouds in the pale blue morning sky,
a walk at sunrise,
on the border between autumn and winter,
soft and cold and still, it’s Sunday.
The same clouds, reflected in the windows,
sometimes quartered by wooden frames,
a little less pink, a darker blue,
smoother, shinier, harder.
A shallow puddle on the street, the clouds float there too,
the sky shifting, dissolving, blending,
into a brown-orange herringbone of brick.
Could it be Sunday there as well?
⁂
✶ Early thoughts have a different tone than late ones; in color, rhythm, and clarity. During my first Sunday morning walk of this autumn, a pastel reflection took shape. On my way home I tried not to lose any of it,
to hold the thoughts close. These kinds of musings fade quickly, covered by the ripples of the rest of the day.
✦ Image from the precious matters personal collection: now part of this growing archive. A lifetime of small moments, gathered with care: fragments of a soft universe in the making.
✧ Originally written in Dutch by Merel Slootheer. Translated with care and intuition by Blackbird Ditchlord.