Useless, Broken Things–dVerse OLN

Useless, Broken Things

In a forgotten cupboard,
behind an empty box,
I find stories, covered in dust

A child’s teddy bear,
ragged, torn,
forgotten years ago.

A toddler’s shoe,
wrinkled, scuffed.
Worn for her first steps?

Inside her lonely room,
an old lady turns frayed pages
of her memory.

She kisses photos’ tattered edges,
and wishes, once again,
to hear the sounds of laughter.

In a forgotten cupboard,
behind an empty box,
I find toys, cover them with tears.

Posted for dVerse OLN, hosted by Grace. Please join us.

Labeled for non-commercial reuse

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Depouillement–dVerse

Depouillement*
A Haibun

Do falling leaves ache with the pain of letting go? Or do they revel in the freedom of floating and of the taste of earth? Did they boast of glorious colors that they wore in days before releasing their hold on life?

And the trees—do they grasp obsessively to their robes of glory, regret the day that finds them stripped, exposed and naked—vulnerable to cold and rain.

I am October now, buffeted by aging. I hurl my somethingness into the great unknown, one gift at a time. I face the imminence of winter, move beyond the sting of loss into the joy of unknown expectations. I am old but full of hope, in the springtime of new life. Beneath the soil life pulses.

Je suis depouilée
stripped bare like October trees
richness lies hidden

 

Photo: Victoria Slotto

*The French word depouillement means stripping. The verb depouiller is to strip. The first line of the haiku translates : I am stripped.

Happy to be able to jump in for OLN this week. I have tried to consider some of the wonderful prompts I have missed related to personal events–this one, especially, relates back to Kim’s prompt for Tuesday’s Poetics.

Outside Looking In–dVerse Poetics

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Outside-Looking-In

Was it like this my entire life
or only since the years stole
in and swept away beauty and desire?

I stand here, watching shadows
of youthful joy and folly,
longing for a simple touch

or even the smile of a stranger
passing by me in Wal-Mart
as I walk slowly, using my cart as a cane.

They are so busy with their lives.
They have things to do and families
to raise and who love them. You are gone

now, leaving me to this darkness,
Gazing at life unfurling before me.
Sitting on my porch, watching

through the another’s window,
nursing memories and fears.
Waiting for death.

For Poetics at dVerse, Lillian would have us look outside or inside a window. The poem I’ve written isn’t about me, but it is something I have encountered so very often working as a nurse with, for the most part, elderly patients. Though I don’t feel old, I know age is sneaking up on me, so I begin to look at things more often from the perspective of the elderly. Please, don’t forget them!

simplicity–dVerse Haibun Monday

Photo: Max Pixel Labeled for Non-commercial reuse.

simplicity

the echo of your words
the haunting emptiness
of promises not meant
the lies that steeped in
darkest night ring loudly
clashing with the sweet-
ness of your voice, your
smile, your tender touch

i cleave to gentle, simple
things in these last years

Today De invites us to share a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words excluding title, with the poetry community at dVerse. Please join us for this fun prompt here. The word to include this week is ECHO, in any form you can conjure up.

Spring Eternal–dVerse Quadrille

Spring Eternal

She’d lost the spring in her step,
(it’s true.)
But the twinkle in her eye,
mischievous,
kept her young—
an icon of joy.

“It’s love,” she told me,
“only love,
that makes me who
who I am.
No winter in this heart
of mine.”

Photo: David Slotto
My mother at age 90-something.

Kim is hosting dVerse Quadrille today asking for a poem of exactly 44 words, excluding the title, using the word SPRING in any of its forms. I was a bit surprised where this one took me. We would love to see you join us for the prompt that is available to you all week.

of a pristine october morn

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

of a pristine october morn

blue glass sky, cloud-
less, diamond dew-studs,
shimmering hoar frost

leaves blush at branches bare
bold crickets cry frantically
singing last-chance choruses

a flagging rose scatters petals
before winter’s advent
and i watch life slip
from between my fingers

Written for Kim’s Quadrille prompt at dVerse Poets’ Pub–asking for a poem of exactly 44 words, using the word cloud.

Seamstress–dVerse Quadrille

Seamstress

She sits in her window,
in the old white rocker,
sewing shadow-memories
into a cohesive whole.

She’s alone now—
no one with whom to share
beauty, the texture of her life,
peppered with pain and giving.

Sunshine seeps through
half-opened blinds.
Still she waits.

Photo: Wikipedia Commons--Labeled for Non-commercial reuse.

Photo: Wikipedia Commons–Labeled for Non-commercial reuse.

A second Quadrille for De’s prompt at dVerse Poets’ Pub…a poem of 44 words, using the given word SHADOW. Please join us.

My original response to this prompt is here.