I hope I never lose my sense of wonder. If that makes me naive, then so be it.

Monday, 11 May 2009

more from the poet

From the phrase "a blue suitcase" I conjured up a lady who remembers. This is as close as I come to making a story. I do vignettes, scenes. No plot lines; I leave that to those more able *cough* Seren *cough*.

I did like this one.

A Blue Suitcase

she sits quietly,
taking it all in
with a distant smile
and more distant eyes
a blue suitcase
perched on her lap
worn, battered, the hasps bent
showing its life of travel
as the lines in her face
show her own

you can't see it
but inside, held by yellowing tape
a postcard
a memory
a sunlit beach
when she was young and in love
but now she sits
watching others in their prime
enjoy the fleeting sip of sweet wine

they feel immortal
that time moves on, changing all
she was once there
laughed, and loved,
not the mere frailty
that sits,
taking it all in
hugging a blue suitcase
and remembering him

Sept 7, 2006

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