Pause

WindowII
Window II, Michelle Chaplin

To create this poem, I separated 100 words of personal prose and kept only my favorite words. Then I wrote the vertically chosen words. This is the result.

Pause

Cracked seeps shape and shade
faint scuffling bones
in hot
pane.

Gust cool wind–
listen.

creaking, cracking

Stand.
Sweat.
Wait.

Here is my original source text.

I pause at the end of the hallway and stare
at the cracked window pane. A gust of cool,
damp air seeps through. That feeling isn’t natural,
I think to myself. There’s something about the
shape and shade of the wind that makes the tiny
hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I stand frozen, and I listen. I hear some faint scuffling.
Creaking. Cracking
bones. Distant laughter. A car engine revving.
I inch toward the door, until I finally stand directly
in front with a hot face. Sweat trickles. I wait.

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