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rearview mirror
Contributed by
elle
on
Thursday, 29th January 2009 @ 01:18:47 PM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
balmy & sweet,
the evening air shifting,
the pinwheels turn,
glossy, spring inspired colours
reflect the onset of night.
as flashing fireflies
busy themselves at dusk,
creating a chorus of light,
phosphorescent excitement. . .
a chase begins.
Patsy Cline streaming out
gauzed, draped windows. . .
on the breeze
that plays with our hair.
& in the hushed, fraught atmosphere
we dance to the tune of freeze tag
giggle & beg for an impartial judge.
you reign supreme.
your constant companion,
intoxication, canned or bottled
by your side.
we mimic what we don't understand
. . . we hide. . . we seek.
little do we know.
the mask of fatherhood
falls gently away to reveal
a wounded abandoning. . .
pale inner child, spinning
crashing into walls, unseen.
come out & play with us. . .
we three, we love you. . .
no matter what. . !
instant melts into days,
moment into years.
let you tears fall away.
let your fears fall all around us.
we will gather every one
like marbles
& play. . .
king of the mountain.
you reign supreme.
you slip. . .
not noticing, we skip. . . a ways
but always staying by your side,
waiting for all
to be ok.
please, rest your weary head.
how heavy, your cares must be.
no wonder, you walk sideways,
mumble & limp
to a beat we can't hear.
we missed so much. . .
. . .
. . . but most of all,
we missed you.
Copyright ©
elle
... [
2009-01-29 13:18:47]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: rearview mirror
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Friday, 30th January 2009 @ 06:26:01 PM AEST
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| A poem about childhood days and the reminiscing thereof? That's where it was taking me. Me likes :-) |
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Re: rearview mirror
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Friday, 30th January 2009 @ 06:27:11 PM AEST
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| or lack of?? |
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Re: rearview mirror
(User Rating: 1 )
by Spike on
Saturday, 31st January 2009 @ 06:52:55 PM AEST
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a Message)
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Oh, you led the reader on a winding path of childhood nostalgia into the maw of parental 'presenteeism' fueled by the demon drink and deep psychic wounds. Ah, the forgiveness and sensitivities of children.
This left me with such a rich aching longing that tapped into my own parental absences ( both my own as child and that of father).
Excellent poetry.
S.
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