Audrey Tan Hui En, Singapore
I am trying not to think about the sun,
and the fake waterfall crashing
behind my back. A fat brown bird
does not know to go left or right—
there, in the grass, I’d thrown a snail,
which Acacia had nearly crushed.
Upwards, in the sky,
clouds are moving right.
Later, at home, a baby lizard is climbing
over the glass pane of my shower.
Wet and naked, I watch the way it sticks,
its feet, round and flat and pink. I think
about the urgency of writing,
even though this sounds like a way
to delay the necessary—dishes in the sink,
items on my list. I don’t understand
how the joy of watching an orange butterfly flit
over a hedge of red leaves could give such clarity:
my shadow on the grey ground,
head hovering over notebook.
The lizard’s neck throbs curiously
as it balances on the edge of glass above me.
I crab-walk outside, dripping.
Audrey Tan is working on short stories about the complexities of interpersonal relationships. Her fiction has been published locally and overseas. She is a fiction editor of the Journal of Practice, Research and Tangential Activities (PR&TA), and teaches creative writing and language courses.