I have a new routine to start my work day. It’s a chance to center my mind, while doing a little mental stretching to prepare it. Sometimes, the exercise relates to the office job; others, my personal writing. On Monday, it was the latter.
It a last bit of preface, I’ll segue to a common question writers get: “Where do you get your ideas?” Usually, I haven’t a clue, but I know exactly where this piece originated. I looked at the window and the word “a’sliver” came to mind as a creative synonym for “ajar”. Mundane origin? Perhaps. Occasionally, the magic in writing is simply a curtained alcove in Emerald City with an old man hiding there*.
*Even then, when you look carefully, you might see the trailing remnants of real magic as they flee from prying eyes

Anyway, I challenged myself to work it into a little something, and as I sat in my office listening to the sounds of morning and watching the world through a window, the following flowed out. Less stream-of-consciousness writing….and more of a leak. (how’s that for a sales pitch?)
Window sits a’sliver just enough For filtered birdcalls to enter the room But perhaps not the heat A whispered wind whistles in Squeezing through a narrowed crack It cannot force wider open Sun chases behind them Sending shadowed wings to dance upon my wall Wafted air disturbing doldrum days Trees glow in verdant hues Awash with shadow and light Dancing brightly fro and to Asphalt rhythms drone in time Rubbered wheels, frictioned warm Click-kicking out stones The staccato bark of greeting dogs Heedless of rhyme or melody A mixed meter only they measure
Stylistically, it’s a bit of a mess.
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