The Sheen

A poem about some recurring dreams and memories I've been having of my mother, who passed away a few years ago.

Some nights I am haunted
by the things that I want
the sunshine, the memory,
the person and the heart.
By old words with fleeting meanings
coming back to stir things up
only now with heavier worlds
behind them.

Being what that is
in that space.
It's mine, but in the same moment
I am separated by a sheet of
time,
from these visions that
belong to me.
from a beacon of wholeness
I was always entitled to
though diurnity
no longer thinks so.

There really is no
eloquent way
to express the ache of
what is missing from
the mass of me
I only know
that I gave my ghost
to a fullness only found
in a dream.

Author's Note

Again, ignore capitalization, punctuation, and structure.

Reviews

[Libby McKeown]

There really is no eloquent way to express the ache, what a great line, and full or irony. It's eloquent in its simplicity. Make sure to read your work aloud and you can hear how to make it flow a little easier. Just my humble opinion! Thanks for sharing!