Shelved

Shelved

A Poem by p lawrence
"

After we're gone.

"

I exist only in memory now, and as the shoebox lid is lifted

and my photo is raised, the effort brings her a smile, and as

her thoughts turn, the splinters of light flicker as if the start

of an old projector, then rat-a-tat images, the poorly spliced

film sputtering until I appear, a sepia vignette, my face

amorphous, gossamer, voiceless, until I am set down, placed

once again inside the cardboard container, the cards and

photographs, and old key chains and lucky coins, the pack

of loose razor blades and the last few pages of Gatsby gently 

moved aside by a careful hand, the box destined not to be opened again 

until one yet to be born lifts me to the light, the curious pencil inscription 

faded, yet visage familiar, sufficient to return a smile of recognition

before I am lidded once more, a curious forebear, and as the

tenuous threads of connection sever, I suspend over the trash can

until a sentimental hand slides me back upon the shelf, the detritus

blown clear before I reclaim my perch, awaiting my chance to be

raised to the light again.

© 2020 p lawrence


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Added on October 14, 2020
Last Updated on October 14, 2020
Tags: life, death, memory, love, time

Author

p lawrence
p lawrence

NJ



About
Thanks for stopping by. I live just outside of New York City where I write short stories, flash fiction and occasional prose poetry. I've been fortunate to have both my short fiction and prose poetry .. more..

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