The Silence After
in the silence after i clutch the ashes to my chest carry them with me everywhere
the date burned into my brain hard to remember my former life it is as if
it has been drawn with a pencil erased drawn again
upon examination the work is a mess yet it is my life
all lines lead to you i submit for your examination the great divide
between what was before/wwb and what is now/win life goes on
even if we are no longer living just alive until we can live again
the summer night hot the katydids sound their alarm
spreading the news some even seem to scream the land scorched
the drought drags on hottest summer on record long gone are the butterflies
flowers in the garden gourds drying in the fields the girls draw lines on the sidewalk
play hop-scotch end of summer each little piece
placed into a capsule perhaps one day it will be opened
all will be revealed remembered make sense
until then you will remain in a secret place we share old memories
could we have picked a better story shoplifted from another lived another life
probably not this story was written long ago even before we were born
we just play our parts learn our lines appear on stage when called
September 25, 2016
s Wjor; #26
10 comments:
This is very good. I especially like "my former life it is as if
it has been drawn with a pencil erased drawn again" ... I hope the pencil at least has one of those cute, colorful topper-erasers in the shape of a little animal or something. :) No matter what happens, we have to keep things cute and fun, or what's the point of it all?
That line between what was before and what is now.......we constantly return to it,so precious was what was before that never will be again. Thank heaven for our work! I resonate with this one, Annell.
Alive until we can live again.. Like holding our breaths and wishing.. How it makes our chest and heart ache. Those pencil lines are haunting.. And the flashback.. I suppose our stories are already there.. It is sad to think some lines can be so irreversible..and yet I am glad there is a secret place to keep what is dear to us inside..warm hugs to you and bright flowers xo
The end part reminds me of the famous quote from Shakespeare about all the world being a stage.
I love the way you come back to that point you are trying so hard to forget... I think even if it's penciled it cannot be erased...
This was great... a little radical for you I thought... which didn't diminish the talent you have :)
ZQ
"wwb" verses "win"; both are important for wholesomeness, for poetry, for lessons, and for continuing.
Wishing you a happy Sunday
much love...
Deep, deep, deep. Yes sometimes as I look back at life I realize that even if I wanted to change something I probably wouldn't. I would make the same choices, end up in the same place. And that is not bad. We all play our parts...perhaps predetermined. There may be a master playwright up there who is in charge!
The only difference between wwb and win is the perspective of the viewer. And that doesn't change anything. As you say, we go on living until we can live again,
Elizabeth
Very Shakespearean in its conclusion, a sad acceptance that this is how life and death is. Beautifully written Annell.
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