Butterfly Cauldron
Friday, August 07, 2009
First drafts
So. I've been thinking about a new collection of poems. They're really hard for me to write, but I think that's good. Anyway, I have a first draft ready to go.
New Shoes
When I saw them,
I had to have them.
Red plaid flannel, soft and warm.
They don't match anything and
I wear them all the time.
They remind me of the shirts
my father used to wear.
Practical.
Durable.
A wardrobe staple.
Sometimes, I wear my new shoes
and I cry.
He's not so sturdy
Anymore
Not indomitable.
Now, when I see him, he's
tripped by pain.
He talks through tight jaws,
trying to keep the pain from seeping
out to infect me.
He likes to pretend nothing
has changed.
He likes to pretend he'll always be here.
But he hasn't worn red plaid
in years.
New Shoes
When I saw them,
I had to have them.
Red plaid flannel, soft and warm.
They don't match anything and
I wear them all the time.
They remind me of the shirts
my father used to wear.
Practical.
Durable.
A wardrobe staple.
Sometimes, I wear my new shoes
and I cry.
He's not so sturdy
Anymore
Not indomitable.
Now, when I see him, he's
tripped by pain.
He talks through tight jaws,
trying to keep the pain from seeping
out to infect me.
He likes to pretend nothing
has changed.
He likes to pretend he'll always be here.
But he hasn't worn red plaid
in years.
3 Comments:
Gods, that's sad. I bet a lot of people watching their parents age will relate. *hugs*
You should put more of your poems on your blog! Me want!
You are a greedy thing, aren't ya Aisha ;) Well...ok. I'll put up a few more :) Just you No Steal! :)
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