Echos

 Memories flash by

like old, faded snapshots

stuffed in a

dusty, long-forgotten

photo album.

 

Pieces of yellow, cracking

scotch tape

flutter to the floor.

 

Arthritic hips bending,

cracking, catching.

Arthritic fingers

bent and twisted

like barren

tree branches

in the death-grip of winter.

 

Only the metronome

tick of the

antique wooden clock

on the doily-covered

mantle piece

breaks the monotony

of the silence

in the tomb

once called a home.

 

Slow shuffle

to the bedroom

to lie down

and rest these

weary bones,

as late afternoon sunlight

bows acquiescence

to reigning blackness of night.

 

The clock keeps ticking,

tick-tock-ticking,

as the memories

fade to dreams.

Author's Note

Published in May 2007 in my book reflections of perceptions.

Reviews

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Love the imagery!

The clock keeps ticking,
tick-tock-ticking
as the memories
fade to dreams

Now this is poetic writing!

[KAREN]

Some memories feep us going, whileothers you wish would fade altogether. Very emotional write. Excellent piece of work!

[Bruce Bray]

very good poem..

writer creates a visual very effectively by using her words.. you can almost smell the dustiness and feel the loneliness attributted to this person living alone.. not only is the person there alone, but all of the material things surrounded the party (i.e. the yellow scotch tape)..

all of the senses are present in this piece.. you can even HEAR the clock ticking (how many of us have heard that in a room before)..

this is a GREAT piece!

[Chris Bighorse]

This is a really sad poem to me. I think it's a very good poem but sad nonetheless. The first two stanzas are my favorite. There's more story behind those lines than the rest of the poem. I think the ticking of the clock could be left out and the last two stanzas brought together to make the poem more compact. But other than that I think this poem has a lot of promise but I don't think it's done. I feel that there maybe a little more to say about this old woman. Good work.