To Harris

 

To Harris

Three minutes to five. The clock ticks.

It can not smile. Though human does.

The grand daughter prepares for him.

The selection of perfume, dress

and things one chooses at these times

make her remember. Her days. Weekends.

Harris. Boats. Breaks. Ha! The curse of

first ill luck. Life goes through. Are not you

supposed to see them in sepia

bounded in the frames of curved woods?

 

No need to tell the girl to be nice

with him. She knows. It doesn’t matter.

Harris. The blue sailing lessons.

Now she knows she had been touched with bliss.

The young couple from present days leaves.

As she closes the door of her

she is grasping for the doorknob

of one semi detached house at

Thirty-Five by One with a nameplate

of brass. She has closed that in her days.

Reviews

[Beautifully Tragic xPoe..]

Great imagery. I really enjoyed this. Great write!

[Ankhesen Mié]

I'm loving the imagery, the mystery, the format, and the phrasing. You've got a gift in you, as well as a bit of a cynic. But I may be wrong. Can't wait to read more!

[Helena]

A poem to be read over again and enjoy, which I did.

Once again your talent shines through so loud and clear my friend....

Thank you for this beautiful piece of poetry.

~ Helena ~

[Broken.]

Wow I really love this.
Its so simple yet I'm drowning in the depth of it.
Amazing piece.

[J.Sinclair (Morrow)]

I love this, but I too wonder if there is a word missing. But it is beautiful - full of great imagery, and a wonderful somewhat sad tone.

[alternative_be]

Though at some point I have the feeling a word got stuck in your keyboard
"As she closes the door of her'...appartment?
This poem gives me a vary familiar and nostalgic feeling...
Yes I do own very old sepia coloured photographs of my great grand parents... What a wonderful image to use!
I too had a very special bond with my grandparents... and as time goes by, there will come a moment where you have to close a door behind you, so special that you never would have thought/ wanted to close.
Thanks to the photographs memories are here to stay forever!
Actually poems such as yours serve the same purpose!