Whispering is the wind in the treetops, the murmuring of discarded clothes in the attic, the sharing of sisterly secrets late at night. Worship and whirl sound like whisper. And wasted and whimsical, worthy and wizard. She imagines all the Ws dancing and twirling, loving each other like long-lost relatives.
Linda Briskin is a writer and fine art photographer. she is drawn to writing about whimsy, fleeting moments, and the small secrets of interior lives. Her writing has appeared in numerous literary journals. As a photographer, she is intrigued by the permeability between the remembered and the imagined, and the ambiguities in what we choose to see. See more at lindabriskinphotography.com
I love the feeling Linda Briskin evokes of things and feelings tucked in dark corners.
Wonderful
Love this!
Such a beautiful sounding prose poem – imbues a sense of whispering and quiet anticipation while evoking glorious images. I find it fascinating how the ‘wh’ sound in English is so beautiful in contrast to the letter’s name that is simply double that of a neighbouring alphabet letter. AS a romantic at heart, I misread the last phrase as ‘long-lost lovers’😊