She is receding
the memory in the dark
panels of hardwood
walls speckled
ceiling
altered, hung with
shadowed bulbs
broken
filaments
bouncing round the glass
curves
drifting slowly past
through walls
dwindling, receding
turning inward
forgetful
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Memories... they take on so many forms. Secured in a box rarely opened, covered in dust... Pushed into a corner in a crowded mind... or simply lost.
ReplyDeleteThis is a powerful expression of slowly fading memories. It pulls at me... I can't figure out if it's because I relate or because I sense the emotion you've poured into the words...
In either case, I enjoyed your poem. Thank you for writing.
This is beautiful, almost haunting. i feel like it's kind of comparing memories to mortal items...
ReplyDeleteIts tragic, but well done.