windmills of memory

the sound of rain on remembered rooftops

brings back snippets 

of the now blurry pages of my childhood

mere unconfirmed stories

once upon a times of long ago

 

 

i do recall how the chocolate melted

drizzled over the lemon meringue pie

and the sweetness of the taste wrapping my tongue in love

yes, I can see it all again

wooden shoe images of eight adults working together

to them I was the only girl in the world

and my cousin the only boy

we were the first americans

the ones who would make it in the new world

 

the windmills of memory spin

i pour emptiness out of my ewer of emotions

because i’ve spent them all countless times

till i feel almost weightless…like a shadow on the wall

i am the last one standing…or floating as the case may be

no one is left who remembers

and the story of how my heart grew up and now cries

Is meant only to keep me company

on a nostalgic delft blue afternoon

Author's Note

written because i loved them all

Reviews

[Writer at last! Sky ~]

You're absolutely amazing with your words and also with the flow of memories. Seriously, it seems the time has passed so quickly that even the people around us, the places, the America has changed so much! But its really captivating read :)

Bless you!

[Lydia Shutter]

You have read so many of mine today. Thanks again. Lydi**

[Writer at last! Sky ~]

You're most welcome my friend :)

[Sanober]

Wow, i feel like i've just flipped through a very very special and personal family album. I think it would kill me if i was the only one left to remember the joyful memories, but maybe that is just life. i feel the depth of emotion in every line, so much that it moves me to tears. it's always the simple moments spent with our family that are so dear to us. thank you for sharing this.

[Lydia Shutter]

We have to cherish every moment we have with our loved ones, no matter how insignificant it might seem. Thank you again, Sanober. Lydi**

[Lyn Anderson]

This is a tough one, but beautiful, nonetheless. I will be there one day. I don't want to think about that. For now, I am lucky enough ...

[Lydia Shutter]

Being the last one left standing is not easy, but my memories are just wonderful. Thank you, KL. Lydi**

[Marianne Rose]

I love this poem, it has grace and movement, strong aromas floating across the page until I can smell them too. I'm in a nostalgic place also sometimes, thinking back on all the ones that have gone before me, I can relate to the feeling of being left behind, lingering with memories. Beautiful, Lydia, thank you.

[Lydia Shutter]

Thank you very much, Marianne. Lydi**

[Ruth]

Memories have such a magnificent way of rendering us paused. I love hearing about the past, how it shaped people, crafted them into who they are. This is so vivid and real and placed me there in some ways. Lydi, this is beautiful my friend :) I now also keep imagining the pie with the melted chocolate :)

[Lydia Shutter]

Thank you so much, Poppy. I was so fortunate to have the loving and supportive parents and family members I did. It's sad, though, that I am the only one left. Such is life. Lydi**

[Ruth]

Yet in some ways they live too, particularly here Lydi, a slice of life shared lives on, beautiful and my pleasure, always :)

[Lydia Shutter]

Thank you for saying that, my friend. Lydi**

[Shabeeh Haider]

With time the people who we love become a memory but those happy moments of the past will always remain in our memories.
these lines are truly classical:

"the windmills of memory spin
i pour emptiness out of my ewer of emotions
because i’ve spent them all countless times
till i feel almost weightless

[Lydia Shutter]

Thanks so much, Shabeeh. Lydi**

[Patricia Wedel]

Nostalgic delft blue afternoon.., windmills of
your heart... memories that linger forever.
Your poetry is soft as rain on a summer day.
truly, Pat

[Lydia Shutter]

Thank you very much, Pat. Hope all is well with you. Lydi**

[redzone]

such beauty and longing in your words Lydi... the beauty of being loved (you and your cousin) and the longing for them to still be sharing your life... it is a hard sadness to be the last of the ones who came from an old world for a new life... We are often fragile and unable to continue on except for the memories that also can empty like an ewer...

I got swept up in your emotions of words Lydi and think of the wonderful gifts that you can give and do give to your grand daughters... your memories to theirs and to theirs beyond and those windmills and wooden shoes will live on and on and so forth...

the thing is that even knowing this, to be the last of the beginning of something new leaves one feeling hollow....

I love your poem Lydi, to say it is "nice" doesn't really give it the warmth and love it deserves..

redzone

[Lydia Shutter]

You understood my words so well, Curt. The thing is, the younger generation is not all that interested in stories of long ago. I have written some of them and put them on a CD for them though...perhaps someday. I appreciate your wonderful review....and it is always more than "nice". Lydi**

[Coyote Poetry]

Amazing poetry dear Lydia.
"the windmills of memory spin
i pour emptiness out of my ewer of emotions
because i’ve spent them all countless times
till i feel almost weightless…like a shadow on the wall
i am the last one standing…or floating as the case may be"
The windmill of time is fair. We pay for every good action or bad. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[Lydia Shutter]

Thank you so much, John. Lydi**

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome Lydia.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

so much emotion in this...those thoughts of childhood and the adults who broke through boundaries so that we might have it better in the world...

makes me remember the old apartment building in which we started out---and then the movement since and from then.

j.

[Lydia Shutter]

My parents, my aunt and uncle, my maternal grandparents, and my great aunt and uncle all lived close by and all of them were nurturing and loving. They, as well as my one cousin, are all gone now. Yes, they did it all for our generation...and they never complained. Thank you, Jacob. Lydi**