sweeping up

so many of the places
where we were are gone
as if an unseen hand
were sweeping up
after us after closing
after the late shadows
have pushed the last shreds
of day into quiet evening
even then there were crickets
and smells of coffee shops
and wisteria that dripped its
scent like soft voices
calling after us after we passed
newspapers and shared quips
and lazy meandering walks
counting mosses and lilacs
and cats slinking from porch steps
our last spot – the one
we most called ours –
will be gone within the year
and chairs, tables, cups,
and flowered cloths will be pulled
from our little corner
where none but our comfort breathed
walking by in late afternoon,
the hollow sound of an empty cup
as it hits the table
echoes in blooms within
birthing sudden ripplings
in what so often now lies still
so that the pinch makes me pause
we may not recover,
but we do walk on

© Sarah Whiteley

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15 thoughts on “sweeping up

  1. I could hear these words read by Dylan Thomas…so many resonant sounds vibrating in the air…so many wonderful lines in the poem…this is a favorite of mine.

  2. aw. so many places, for me a ton of music clubs and venues too, all gone, those places of formative memories, all of them. but yes, walk on…

    1. hard to watch these changes happening sometimes,… normally I roll with it, but when this place closes in December, I think perhaps a little piece of me will pass away with it

  3. My heart knows this feeling oh so well……change is the only certain thing it seems, and memories can so gently haunt us…..I love the way you captured this…. Kaz.

    1. thank you, David! it is sad,… but we do the only thing we can do… walk on and occasionally take stock of the places we loved and were loved in

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