Our box lies temptingly there.
No, I can't.
Haunting memories will return.
Oh, I must.
Those browning photographs.
Just this once.
The thoughtful greeting cards.
Here I go.
Beautiful images come to life.
There she is.
She was sitting by the fountain.
By my side.
Reflections of her moonlit face.
Oh, so sweet.
Birthdays, Christmases, Valentines.
My heart stops.
Tears were in her lovely eyes.
I awake.
Haunting memories in my mind.
She is gone.
Other thoughts here: Sunday Scribblings and Monday Poetry Train
Saturday, January 24, 2009
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7 comments:
I love the way the shorter lines are like indrawn breath! It makes the hurt more real.
This is a great poem. When I first read it my eyes naturally gravitated to reading every other line--it was beautiful. Full of tension and suspense. I reread it in full and only liked it more because I felt the sadness of it.
i love this! i like the rhythm of the poem and how fast the emotions go by with each action.
very touching
and written so creatively
:)
i am in no way afraid of death,, but the loss that we suffer when we lose loved ones to death,, when they leave us here behind to find our way alone... that saddens me immensely....
Poignant. Nicely framed poem...
I suppose that is why some folks throw them out or burn them. Me I have boxes to go through. I think perhaps it is time to throw man of them out. This is a lovely and sad poem.
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