AfterA Poem by BrandonThoughts on grief. Thoughts about what happens once the funeral is over.
Adrift in the afterglow of change...
A space draped in warm colors and familiar shades. A light veil of dust kisses each and everything - Gossamer webs dance as they cling. So much brightness submerged in cloudy gray; Words left unsaid as cigarettes in an ashtray. Meaning gives meaning, and hope gives hope; A wash rag with a dab of soap. Today, there's memories that ripple as coffee seems to dribble into the pot - Tomorrow could be new, Though old is more like this space. Relics shifted around like wanton memories. Yellowed with age, Touched by time; Ethereal pictures of then in their prime. And we could wish these things back to life; Give us more than we ever deserved. Faded produce boxes And old shipping supplies, The friends that we tidy away the pain into. Keepers of things on this material plane, Banished to the back of a closet for another day.
© 2024 BrandonAuthor's Note
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