Elegy

for myself

So when my profile

falls apart

and every swing door greets

a stranger I find an old man

who has kidnapped my soft face.

My eyes are full of red lace,

my wrist alloyed with copper,

my body fallen into chinoiserie.

So let me collect, talis qualis,

small sins in a tin box,

postcards under shoes in a cupboard

as the breaking of my shell is

the looking at pictures through a window,

bits of the past, calls on a dead line,

everything gone but not gone.

Reviews

[Lyn Anderson]

Kind of an interesting gift for yourself. The sins in tins -- love it.

[highonwords]

this poem tells me about the cycle of human life, specifically the subject has aged...his eyes full of red lace..i like this line a lot

[Blue]

Wow. This is a creative poem you've written for yourself, Leslie. Your intriguing introduction set the mood. "So when my profile/falls apart..." (Sigh) The end wrapped up the entire piece beautifully. Very well done!