Totally Optional Prompts posts: The challenge this week is to write about lost stuff, lost identity.
glass slivers on the patio
shimmered in the crystal night
he came while I was gone and
the moon looked the other way
inside sprawled the hope chest
opened by an egg beater
silverware spilled among papers
photographs and thumb spun books
jewelry - cosmetics - perfume
and, my coin collection
disguised in an old boot box,
never again touched my hands
one day I stood red-faced
to identify silky underthings
in front of three detectives
who caught and lost the thief
safety changed its definition
warning clicks in the night
security shivers in the shadows
he'll make another pass
Processed fractal.
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9 comments:
The worse way to lose something.
Excellently done.
Sue, I hope this is not a real happening in your life. Love your images in your words. Such sadness is felt. I know stuff is just stuff but it still hurts. Wonderfully put together and expressed my friend.
The reason your email could not be sent is my box was filled. Also I am now using gmail. Do your have it or you using MrsDalloway at AOL?
love, Melanie
I'm grateful robbery has never touched my life. You've captured the trauma quite well.
Vivid and terrifying.
Bad enough when it happens - but the apathetic reaction from the 'detectives' confirms nothing really gets done about it.
Having them attack the hope chest makes it seem doubly profane. . .and peace lost is so hard to regain. Well written. I can see the images.
Innocence lost ... wonderful poem. JP/deb
Chilling, Sue, Chilling!
Very scary but very well written.
bonded forever
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