Wednesday, February 22, 2017

MAUSOLEUM




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.




















13 comments:

  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,
    Sanaa

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

    Much love...

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  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.

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  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.

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

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  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.

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  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.

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

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  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.

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

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  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.

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

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  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...

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