Dumpster Diving

She, too, was once young:

A hopeful, green bud

On a supple branch of

The mighty tree of life.

The change of seasons,

And myriad inscrutable

Reasons brought her to

The asphalt floor of the

Concrete jungle where,

Like a yellow autumn leaf,

She is swept into a corner

Of an early-morning, gritty town.

Her hands, sifting through

Refuse, once perhaps dreamt of

The softness of silk scarves, and 

Her narrow eyes scanning 

A hopeful horizon shone

With the shiny satin-sheen of youth.

Her fingers, now knotty wood,

Could have played Liszt, Debussy, or

Chopin to evoke an illusion

That Time is a friend, and that

All shall be well in the end.

 

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Heart wrenching, this poor woman’s fall. Could happen to anyone. Life can be so unfair. No one deserves to end up in the gutter. One thing is for certain. There is no justice in life for some. Brilliant work Laz.

Chris

[Pete]

insightful and telling. life can certainly take us full circle. well done.

[Marie]

I love this poem and how your have inked it, dear poet. Seeing the old lady at the dumpster inspired you to think of her when she was young and had both ideas and ideals, hopes and desires. She may have dreamt of silk scarves to wear, savouring their softness on her skin and her now gnarled fingers could have played classical music which thrilled and delighted her audience, but that is now in the past and in the winter of her life she is swept into a corner like a yellow leaf, sadly. A very poignant write, true to life. Love the use of metaphor and various other figures of speech. Imagery is very evocative and I love the layout of the poem. Superb crafting, dear poet. Thought provoking and insightful. I so enjoyed reading and thank you for sharing...

[MCS]

Deep sober read...time is a funny thing. Your words are so clear and direct, thank you.

[emmajoygreen]

Time and love are the two greatest gifts Man can be given but - are too often wasted by stupidity and speed. Most of us forget that neither gift is an Eternal. Love sans commitment fades in time, becomes a prong on a fork that bends via a breath of indifference. Seems your words climb space as if searching for what you know is impossible.

[Soren]

So well, worded this poem, and it’s metaphor that is exquisite in itself. It floats from the page downward to the readers lips as a leaf dropping from a tree. In its flutters, it reveals not only the literal side of its images, but the metaphoric representation of the other side. Truly, a work of art and most poetic.

[Laz K.]

Thank you for your kind words!

[Arundass TP]

We all live because of time. Great poem

[Laz K.]

Time as such has been philosophized about a lot over the ages. Lots of Shakespeare sonnets, for example, bemoan the "ravages of Time." Some claim that time is an illusion, and reality is eternal. We live in time, but time can "stop" (photographs), " flow backwards (memories), go fast (when having fun), or slow down (when not having fun). But, I'm rambling...haha. Than you for reading and commenting. :)

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

the final two lines leave a heavy blow. yes, time is a thief and it will rob us of pleasure, youth and then life. describing this persona's fall from grace is most heart-wrenching. there was so much going for her but now she is in the gutter. this grave sense of injustice is captured both in the title and throughout the body. powerful stuff.

[Laz K.]

Thank you for this most insightful and detailed response. Much appreciated!

[Lorry]

A very timeous reminder that we are all people, who once had hopes and dreams before reality dealt us a very cruel blow indeed.
Is there anyone amongst us who can say the thoughts of our future when thought by our younger selves worked out exactly as we thought?
No matter where life takes us slang the path of life, there is always something to be grateful for.
Nicely penned Laz.

[Laz K.]

Thank you, Lorry!