Wednesday, February 22, 2017


In my house
There are boxes full of  pictures
Next to an old rocking chair in a room 
Covered with the dust of death.

One day I'm going to sit
In that mausoleum room
Rock myself to comfort
While I look at those pictures,
An attempt at life preserved.
I remember how I cried
The last time I disturbed that dust.
How its mist floated in air,
A moment of resurrection. 

I'll cry in that room
When I find the courage again
To juxtapose life and death.
While I mourn, delighting in sadness/gladness
I'll inhale tiny particles of death's dust
As the mist settles to rest.


  1. Oh Myrna, this poem speaks volumes describing emotions which have been hidden for a long time. Especially this; "I'll cry in that room when I find the courage again to juxtapose life and death" really tears me apart..!

    Lots of love,

  2. Luv the resolve of Verse3. Thanks for dropping by to read mine

    Much love...

  3. Looking back at old photos is an emotional experience and something done only once in a while. I'm not sure it is a good idea. It always takes me days to get over it. Interesting poem.

  4. I so know that feeling of not being brave enough yet to look at those old photos and memories. I remember how hard my mother cried the last time she watched the home movies of her glory days....all gone.........there are so many stories in those photos that I hope we both have time to write.

  5. Beautifully written! (And you remind me that there are boxes I must tackle too, eventually.)

  6. Oh, it is so hard to look through those boxes of photos. I did this within the past year....sorted them out into boxes for this person and that person. Hard to do when I was doing it, but a good feeling when it was accomplished.

  7. Wow.. to be able to go back in there and look at those pictures.. needs courage ..but perhaps it is one way of dealing with loss. Nicely written.

  8. ah...this breaks my heart Myrna...i don't think i'll ever have courage to look at those photos again...

  9. I do better with the photos after time passes, but I remember the days you describe and the dust of death. In time, it will be the good memories that arise and fewer tears.

  10. We keep mementoes of the past but looking at and touching them always hurts.

  11. Boxes best left unopened, for me, I have not looked at the pictures, as the pictures in my mind are ever strongest, and don't want the pictures in my hand to become more important.

  12. There is magic--and mourning--in this poem.

  13. How poignant this was, Myrna... We all have such rooms (eithe rin our house or our heart) - Tears wash away the dust and make them fresh and clean, I have found...