In bits
By Emma Purshouse.

She was in bits;
a billion pieces
were spread across the floor.
On her hands and knees
she tried to put herself
back together again.
She searched for
the straight edges,
the corners;
she sifted through
hundreds of half-tones;
she shuffled shades
into piles
of grey and
heaps of
greyer.
Day after day,
grey after grey,
she slowly sorted.
And just when she thought
she couldn’t go on,
she turned over
the last piece.
The sight of colour
shocked her,
shook her.
She remembered this colour;
it was sky blue;
it was something different;
it was something to work with;
it was a start.

This poem focuses on the metaphorical and literal meaning of the phrase In Bits and was inspired by a discussion, which took place between myself and Linda Nevill. The poem is intended to be a companion piece to Linda’s print of the same name.

Below 'In bits'
Linda Nevill