Poem 5 – Amidst the Dust

Today possessed no spark of inspiration, but it also did not have the painful “I CAN’T DO IT” of yesterday. There are two lines in this poem I like. I’m considering that success.

Amidst the Dust
Stillness outside, tall and grand it rises
Paint peeling and lifting like weathered skin
The door mumbles an oft-given greeting
As a trembling, tired hand coaxes it open
Air soft with must runs to see who enters
And she stops, breathes faint perfume
This was her home when love was new
Three babies here took first breath
Her kitchen was never quiet, never left alone
The table, draped with cream-white cloth,
Looks like a surprised, regretful corpse
The chairs are neater than ever they were
One petal rests on her most prized sideboard
Farther she walks, ignoring the tears
But when she comes to the heart of her home
The tears fall and the memories rise
Her kitchen where she had so faithfully loved
Is dim and dirty, cold and blank
Proving that no hand had served in it
Worst of all, layers of dust covers her love.
She weeps that it is no longer hers,
And she weeps that it once had been
She climbs slowly down to her knees
And she is thankful amidst the dust.

Day 5: survived and I’m contented enough not to feel like a failure. 6/10

2 thoughts on “Poem 5 – Amidst the Dust

  1. So we’re back to bittersweet….youre lucky that’s my favorite kind of ending. The poem was great and I loved the last four lines….


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