Standing In The Doorway Of Yesterday
In the thin light of March
When naked trees wear
Only voices of the past
Then do I rewind remembrance
Time velvet in depths of shadows
Weightless dreams and distant figures
Standing in nocturnal doors
Light and the way it creates
Atmosphere around the years
The way light falls on yesterday
With its breath of mist
Feathers drawn across
The wet paint of memory
Tremors- Quivers- Aloft in the air
Yesterday, with its lines crossed over
Rubbed thin, crumpled within
The fingers of fate
Ephemeral shadows shading winter windows
Luminous winter light
And the snow that dusts
My windows with dreams
Sweeping with vertical strokes
Wiping over with whitewash
Across the epitaphs of time
Memories
No barriers between
pervasive silence
and the weight of words
Transparent curtains lifted
to lost beginnings
The way that shadows step
backwards in time
Into spheres of colors
Or mingle with the whispers of water
The naked brutality of separations
The metallic flavors pressed on all sides
with memories falling
through clouds
Secrets into secret selves
Our landscapes stretched to exiled worlds
Spring back into interiors
To be held within our hearts
Susan’s poems and fiction are on Eastown Fiction, Tryst 3, Word Salad, Pens On Fire, Ken *Again, Hackwriters, and Penwood Review. In 2007, she won the grand prize for poetry from Oneswan.
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