muttering

So, there's the girl with a flicker
Burning, no
Smouldering, just about
Hanging on in there

What is the smoulder?
When was the sun ashamed to be around it?

Ah, back someday
Once, amongst memories
When days were just there
Hanging around to separate the nights it seemed

Now?
Now she all done in by giving
Caught in the mortise joint
Of what was
And what is

Giving, giving
And the bowl is empty
All she asked
Was just a little in return

Some tiny interest
On the investment of her time




Poetry by LFD3
Read 99 times
Written on 2016-09-15 at 00:19

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Sameen
nice poem. the 1st verse is brilliant
2016-09-16


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
the world seen through a window, or a mirror?
2016-09-15


Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
Wow, this is amazing. I see her so clearly. I know her. I've been her. You've got that scene perfectly and left nothing undone. Except her--she's undone and you said so."Now she's all done in"
I love the analogies of the bowl, the flicker, the smoldering to the life of her fading as flame in a pipe perhaps (including the bowl). Applause and Bookmarked for knowing the truth of sacrificial giving.
2016-09-15