Hotel
an old hotel in my hometown
made of wood
once painted white
paint peeled off
traces of white remained
worn and tired
like many of the citizens
of our old town
Mrs. Castle our next door neighbor
lived alone day and night
her husband died long ago
she never mentioned him?
perhaps it was once the place to go
the place to meet for tea
dress up
go out
to see and be seen
on Friday night
Mr. and Mrs. Boots
came into town
dinner at the hotel
not much happens in a small town
Mr. and Mrs. Rainbow
had their wedding party at the hotel
the talk of the town
no one famous ever came in
that hotel was old when I was born
I wonder does it still stand
or has it disappeared like
the town no longer on the map
Written for: https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/
9 comments:
Annell, I love all of the details about the people (loved the names you chose for them) that you worked into your poem. It is interesting that the hotel was the heart of the town's social life. Resonates with truth of small town life!
Ha, I resonate with this as I live in a village where the big excitement on the weekend is going to the pub in the local hotels, not that I ever do. I love the description - such an old hotel, paint peeling. I, too, wonder if it is still there.
The hotel seems to be a character to me like all the people living in the town. It did give them some good time. I also wonder if it's there or not.
Oh Annell ... I love the sweet poignancy of this poem .. the details and the wistfulness...is truly lovely.
This makes me think of all our memories
and getting old and what will I leave behind?
Lovely poem of places and people we once knew and all the stories which take place
I haven’t read a poem by you in a while, Annell, so I was delighted to read this one, with its description so detailed I could see the old hotel clearly in my mind’s eye. I love how it shifts from the old hotel to the citizens, also worn and tired, like the hotel. There is an underlying tinge of nostalgia and sadness.
Well, you know this hotel will exist forever now that it is memorialized in your poem. I, too, like the sense that the people, the town and the hotel share specific tired characteristics AND memories of a once more youthful liveliness.
Haven’t read you for quite awhile Annell. I liked this… :)
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