The Box

I opened the pallid box

That my mother had saved,

It was filled with cards,

Trinkets and Santa Claus socks.

There were newspaper clippings

And an assortment of tattered letters.

 

All the amnesiac memories

That had been bound in time,

Suddenly began to flood my mind

As I reread the yellowed thoughts of ancient love

Captured on paper so old it has crumbled

And the letters can never be read again.

 

Yet the vision still lives while the body has decayed-

A life summed up in 21 years and a few odd days.

 

There were the other letters, too,

From dear old friends.

Those dear old friends live on

And were found again,

Thanks to their energy

Scourging the wires.

 

But the authors of some letters are, alas, amiss.

To this day I still think about them-wondering, wondering.

 

And a watershed's floodgates open

Upon a wilted, withered face.





Poetry by melanie sue
Read 787 times
Written on 2009-10-22 at 01:41

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Toonist The PoetBay support member heart!
I of course had to read your Box poem - certainly not nonsense like mine -you made ne pipe an eye on this one - Thanks Toonist
2009-10-31


Nils Teodor The PoetBay support member heart!
Very beautiful!
Sighs of past that play
on the strings of heart.
A sad but beautiful musik.
2009-10-23


night soul woman The PoetBay support member heart!
Indeed and so well illustrated:) I have a bag of memories as well I open it now and then, I can relate to your poem and aah wow!*
'All the amnesiac memories

That had been bound in time,'

Amnesiac memories:) wow:) Lovely written, thank you for an amazing reading experience*applause*
2009-10-22


Kee Zealy The PoetBay support member heart!
commented already elsewhere, but these are truly amazing and sometimes poignant memories, as I say again, how about a piece of butterscotch pie.
2009-10-22


Bjanka
....don t you love to dwell in memories, even boxed ones, mysterious, painting the faces , the scenes, the words we once heard, the songs we once sang, resurecting our deceased, their love......where everything from back then seemed to be more powerful, more scenting than anything now....love this poem...
2009-10-22


NicholasG
My mother was one of those people who saved just about everything. I still come across these little time capsules as though they had been knowingly planted for posterity. they are without doubt, mixed blessings.
Wonderful conceived and written Melanie.
thanks, Nick
2009-10-22



How lovely, Melanie..

Although I'm generally not much for saving things I do have such a box of old letters, tickets, photos, trinkets ... I don't open it very often, but when I do it always gives me the goosebumps, especially the letters, where peoples voices come alive again..
2009-10-22


Kathy Lockhart
there are such heart-touching feelings that well up through these very delicate and sensitive words. The imagery was superb. The last two lines were perfect.
2009-10-22