It's been covered
by that christmas tablecloth
for years.
You remember...
the one with the large poinsettia pattern
directly in the middle,
with the cranberry stains decorating
sporadic spots along the border.
I almost forgot it was here.
I always hoped somehow a magic trick
would be performed while I was away
and it would disappear before I returned.
The years have passed for me
yet as I do the unceremonious unveiling
time seems to spiral backwards until
I'm sitting on the floor
drowning in a flood of memories.
Yet,
no more tears come.
Time to clean house.
No more tablecloths to cover the pain.
No more boxes to tuck away
the memories that are better off forgotten.
No more excuses for not visiting this place.
No more.
This space is clean now
and will remain that way.
Clear of the cobwebs and dust
that have been clouding my vision
for too many years.
The heavy velvet curtains give a groan
(or is it a cheer?)
as they're thrown open.
Finally, the sun can shine through
and the warmth can be felt
by a heart that was unsure it deserved
to feel the warmth of the sun.
Thank you Michael, for making me feel worthy of the sun's warmth.
I've read this one before and told yu so. Re-reading it today it still resonates amazingly well. Beautifully written piece, Mary - the nostalgic subject matter, the sensitively drawn descriptions and the brilliant conclusion. I'm sure Mr. Shepherd must be delighted. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is so much more poignant now that Michael has passed.