Tissue paper crackles, tired smile wrinkles deepen on her care-worn face. Her eyes sparkle and tremble with tears as she unwraps tiny figures from another time and space. Long ago she stored them away with her childhood. Today long pushed-down stories float to the surface. Daydreams of narrations she authored wake up. She stirs the cold ashes and recalls to mind stories she wrote for the figures she holds in her hands. They were the actors who played out her fantasies when she asked and answered “if only, what if?”.
poetrybyheart.me
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
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MIght be your best yet. Beautiful sounds AND imagery. Marvelous!!
Thanks. I love that you are reading my blog. I’m glad you hear the sounds and see the imagery.
Very creative 🙂 Good job
Thanks. 🙂
I love the story you told. I like the feeling of nostalgia I get from your poem.
I appreciate that you pick up the feelings in my poetry.
Ah, always that bloody question!
https://cupandchaucer.wordpress.com/2015/02/24/writing201-fingers-prosepoem-assonance/
It is tantalizing – and out of reach. 🙂
I agree! One of your best!!!! ❤
Thanks. ❤
Enjoyed this one – thank you!
Thanks. I’m happy to hear that you did. 🙂
I really enjoyed this. And I’m curious about the figures :)! Love the prose poem form, too.
Thanks. The figures in the poem are new creations. While I was thinking what to write i looked at the window ledge where I have objects that have traveled with me many years from home to home. I thought of fingers unwrapping them as I had when I moved here two years ago. The story I wrote evolved on its own from there.
I just love this I can hear the paper crackling and feel the tears as memories are stirred and brought to the top again , its a truly magnificent poem love it , Kathy.
Thank you, Kathy. ❤