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Bristles

Bristles among a glass

mirror, faces

up and seen.

Many hands touched this oak

that of child's hair once impasse

 

The hillside tree,

cut of trim,

bristle that pain,

from the tip of the

crown head,

some time bald, some thick

of coarse wool.

 

Today I see you among

the silk thread that lies

between the crown head, and

the neck. Of many sat before me,

and used me once more.

Author notes

Friday: Personification:

Object that I picked: A Brush

In a list

A contest entry

Please tell me what you think

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
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    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have (?)

Comments


  • perfectsunset gold member
    June 2

    Edit | Reply
    This was a brilliantly
    composed personification
    of a brush. I loved your
    bold and beautiful
    imagery and concepts.

    Best of luck & thanks for entering