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The Persistence
of Memory
Day enters: a pinhole beam.
She sorts, bins, wipes clean
and almost believes
everything can be dumped
at the charity shop
sponged spotless, like the Formica
while she pushes aside
the need to revise and downsize every dream
Night tiptoes: a shapeshifter
that seeps beneath the door
freezes, like frost in a crack
and splinters day’s hope
until it subsides and quietly dies once moreCigarettes, wine, books, the phone
she claws wildly for the shifting sticks
of their kindly lies,
from the rising tide
and the quicksand suck of her mind,
until again, alone
darkness engulfs her home
and she scratches at the ugly scab
| © Caroline Imperatori | ||
| my pOetry menu |
Image from Salvador Dali's 'Persistance of Memory'
