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
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.
Ben Naga 
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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