An Old new year gone by.

Looking into this year as a fresh start from a long break of writing!

She felt the smooth familiarity

On her fingertips

Each thread, each weave.

And spun, and spun

Into fireworks!

 

Maybe explosions in the quiet night sky

And in this delectable silence

Slithers of sweetness

Familiar calm, distant explosion.

 

Little bickers, drowsy from moonshine

What is celebration without wine?

Red and pure, silken raw

Emotion.

 

Her fingers ran across her dress

She felt the hems

The edges fresh and torn

Slightly, worn.

 

Freshly sewn and pressed

Now lay there silken

On the marbled floor,

Like face painting,

Porcelain beauty broken.

 

Fragile, immersed in sea-less land

No flow, no ebb, no sea

Just view of what had been.

 

Old songs lost.

Dress forgotten.

Receipt gone.

 

Moon light dying,

Fireworks banging down generation’s door.

Author's Note

this piece was inspired by the commercialization of celebrations we see today.

Reviews

[An owl on the moon]

Yes, there is such a beautiful, bittersweet feel to your words... the celebrations... the vivid world brought to life, yet fragile in its making... paper more than stone. Looking forward to reading your poetry in 2013!

[Daniel88Batson]

I think this is very very good. But I think this is more pros than poetics. If you put this all into a line, added a few words and moved the punctuation it would make a fantastic opening to a short story. I may be wrong. but this is good.

[Kyle Sky]

I have to say very good...
What else can I say

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

absolutely beautiful...........

[Veritatis Cupitor]

Great choice of words. Love the imagery.. Very vivid. Overall, a well-written piece.