Russian dolls lined up in salute,
the old man cuts his hair on a lawn chair.
Framed stamps,
tiny pictures filled with ocean scenery and
salted on one side.
the Captains letter to his Solitary Queen
a cathartic rinse, a cool saline stare
filling the hollowness in her mind.
Words glowing in the dark iris centers
melting into mossy pools
floating paper skin
Tied with ribbons and resting on the crown
Don't cut it too short Papa.
I really enjoyed this - it somehow felt like a memory, with the tactile moments but then there definitely was this narrative thread.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad that I have some company on this strange ride to write 30 poems in such a short time. I might steal your idea of creating a blog for the challenge.
It is memory based in a way-
ReplyDeleteA friend of mine lived in the Ukraine and he would send me things and tell me of his adventures. I guess this poem is based on my recollections of his memories there. A memories memory?
I felt like creating this blog would give me a greater sense of responsibility to the project...and I think it's working.