Memoirs
MEMOIRS
A story or two
They’d tell out
These folded fingers
If gifted a fresh blush of
Lips, palate, tongue
A blessing this perhaps
Or rather more a curse
Or better still the both
A confession, an absolution
Each sat astride its mirror
Hubris swallowed, spat out
These crablike fingers
Clutching at straws
While nearby a camel
Patiently awaits a breaking
Oh, what a story
They would spill
Then two then three
Then four than five
These mottled fingers
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Posted on June 14, 2017, in Poetry and tagged Absolution, Acceptance, Confession, Corpse, Death, Ego, Ending, Farewell, Life, Memories, Realisation, Review, Understanding. Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.
A masterpiece – what more to say? Eloquent, poignant, wistful…..
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Thank you, Betty. But a masterpiece? I wouldn’t lay claim to that exactly. The image in my head was something like http://theclassytraveler.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/Inside-Notre-Dame-Cathedral-Tomb.jpg but I didn’t want to tie down the poem’s resonances and associations by adding it to the post.
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Intriguing image. I’m glad you didn’t add it to your post though. The image you created in my head with your words was more interesting and “alive”. I still would call it a masterpiece with your precise choices of words and form.
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Sometimes a poem arrives before it’s ready. I can see it but there is a but. I can set it aside for a while and return to it later, sometimes several times but she won’t let me go until it is to her satisfaction. This was one of those.
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Oh, I know those kind of poems. And we can’t escape or rest until they’re finally finished. They arrive before they’re ripe but demand to be dealt with.
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