Thursday, November 23, 2023

Just Momets Before

  Memories/Just Moments Before

yes, memories can pierce

the heart like a frozen icicle

and yet, the daily things can

fall from the pocket we keep them in


another Friday            the exact day and the exact moment

remain forever as if in resin

turn it in your hand     

look close


what do you see?  within the heart

flowers float on the water

the owl and the octopus

stroll the sandy shore


years separate 

events tied with a fisherman’s knot

somewhere long ago      

your life began    


I told you I would come in the morning

you could not wait

your journey began 

just moments before 


in that quiet room      

number 222    

breath ceased

you are there and yet

no longer here

Written for:



Sherry Blue Sky said...

This is so very moving, Annell. You took me there, to that room where your beloved son breathed his last. Forever, now, in memory, always in that room - but also a small boy in a red bathing suit, golden in the sun. Sigh. Just beautiful and so poignant.

Eileen T O'Neill ..... said...

Loss of memory is such a sadness for those who realise that about a loved's an initial frustration for the person, who has lost their capacity to recall or remember.
A very sympathetic use of the prompt subject...

Mary said...

A poignant poem about a very sad memory. Losses of this kind stay with a person forever.

Sumana Roy said...

"you could not wait
your journey began".....Nothing can be sadder than this. Remembering this is so unbearable. Each day comes to hold our hands to take us further from the time. So hard to move yet we have to move with time leaving the loved ones there forever. So sad.

Susan said...

I'm speechless, almost breathless, at the spare beauty of this poem, "turn it in your hand." This poem , too, like the memory of the loved one's death is that hard, that persistent, and yet not unwelcome. To go inside the crystal of it is heartbreaking, and your poem is a gift. Thank you.

Rajani said...

years separate
events tied with a fisherman’s knot... these things become hard inside us and last forever. Such a poignant, brave poem, Annell... I felt every line.


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