Sunday 7 March 2021

Old hands

 


I still dream. Of hills of trees. Of banyan mists

and sandstorm suns. Coffeepot clouds thread the day

into its hours one by one. It persists

in see-through layers of chiffon seaspray

wetting my toes. I still dream of tender wrists

from long ago resting on past laps, halfway

between memory, fiction, forgotten myths.

 

Yes, still dream but can’t recall all the details

except that they were beaded with love, carefree

laidback. They didn’t ask much. They left contrails

of laughter in curtained rooms. They let me be,

weave in and out as I wished, fall and fail

no big deal. They turned pages of poetry.

Picked me up time after time, though old and frail.






13 comments:

  1. Yet another sonnet which plucks at my heart strings...

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    1. Mine have got rather frayed this year...need some soothing past fixes..

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  2. Hari OM
    Childhood glimpses back to delights us through your words! YAM xx

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    1. Childhood is exactly where I want to retreat to right now!

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  3. I hope my grandchildren remember me like this.

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    1. That's really the nicest compliment, Kristin. Thanks!

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  4. Aw. This is so touching. And I truly wish you ultimately will publish a book of all of this lovely poetry produced on this blog. It absolutely touches my heart.

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    1. Thanks for the support and encouragement - prized above rubies! Working on that manuscript - but life keeps getting in the way. :) Glad you enjoy the poetry.

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  5. Replies
    1. Memories are all that's left at the end...and even they do not endure.

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  6. This is really neat. It also reminds me of older birds or outdated airplanes. Really vivid writing. Beautiful.

    I'm getting ready for the April Blogging from A to Z Challenge. And hoping to honor the wonderful women in my life on March 8 for International Women's Day.

    J Lenni Dorner~ Co-host of the #AtoZchallenge, Debut Author Interviewer, Reference& Speculative Fiction Author

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    1. Thank you. All the best for the A-Z preps and actual event.

      Lots going on offline right now and through April, but I would like to join A-Z if I can sort things out.

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  7. Hi Nila - love the recollections ... I remember my mother's hands on her bed while I so often held her right hand during her stroked last years. My uncle too - always happy to have me hold his hand after his wife had died ... Recollections of life occluded with time ... with thoughts - Hilary

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