Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

#205 Fluency . . .

Tell me of mermaids' tears turned to pearl,
or a grandfather's gnarled finger
pointing ways to read the sky.
Stephen Hawking, face and body frozen,
dreams a paradox of movement,
unfolding black holes, new trajectories of fluency.
Blonde dreadlocks swinging, a young singer's gritty voice
reinvents Joplin, her stubby fingers hover over strings,
the very lightness of being.
That was yesterday.

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is simply fluency.


  1. oh this is just a sigh, a sinking down and saying yes :)
    I hope stroke recovery is progressing.

  2. Once again a truly beautiful poem, can't wait for your next one!

  3. Insightful and elegant.