I have now
this exhalation
of yesterday’s tomorrows
all these heres
that add up to then
when we were breathing out
what has long since
wound its way
into green creases
of twining leaves
I have lined them up
just here
like blue-tinted jars
of summer plums
on quiet shelves
where I can tick them off
fingertip on glass
one – the rain
two – remember?
three – long months
and four – moons later
and five rows more
than I can count
this is how
I preserve them
tight-capped jars
of sun and fruit
that I can touch
on winter days
when then is far
and now lies dying
for then
© Sarah Whiteley
i love the idea of the fruit jars of summer and the use of it for winter days. nice nostalgic touch you have here. all the best.
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The fruit jars of summar are just billiant…love it.
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very good metaphors, and brevity – good to see
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I just love this one,Sarah
Peace to you,
Laz
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“when then is far
and now lies dying
for then”
just proving again to me how important memories are.
beautiful poem! xx
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So good… I really love this poem, Sarah!
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