Beneath The Surface Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Traces of a child remain under layers of paint
Simple pencil drawings of irregular circles and lines
As my eyes search, I can see the images prance
I was a playful child then… those drawings were mine

The aging plaster has more straying lines growing...
A testament to the journey of several generations
Years have left their mark…relentlessly testing strength
These walls endure and protect with determination

I find myself accessing and preparing to mend
Running my fingers over cracks in need of repair
Filling with speckling compound… sanding smooth
With a fresh face, no one will know fissures are there

Another layer of pigment conceal the tracks of time
Hints of the passing seasons are slowly disappearing
Only my reflection on the past can give conformation
In the shadows... a peaceful silence is what I am hearing

11/25/09