Saturday, September 3, 2011

Glass Curves



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


2 comments:

  1. 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.
    This 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.

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  2. This is beautiful, almost haunting. i feel like it's kind of comparing memories to mortal items...
    Its tragic, but well done.

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