Dishevelled Now Poem by C Richard Miles

Dishevelled now, you shuffle through the door
In fluffy slippers, dingy dressing gown,
Still spattered with spent remains of breakfast,
You almost fail to remember, one hour since,
And yesterday has flown like drifting dust
Out of the empty mansions of your mind
But still you speak so clear of distant days
When, just emerging from that chrysalis,
Girlhood, a ruby-throated humming bird,
You hovered in a whirl and danced till dawn
In glittering ballrooms. Of course, then your gown
Was not that greasy grey that swamps your frame
Now dwindling, But sparkling, shimmering silver
Edged white with fur and then those twinkling feet,
Which now trail tiredly and tend to trip
Upon the threadbare floor, tripped fleet and fast
In spiked too-high stilettos, razor sharp,
As was your acid wit when, a tigress,
You would spit an apt remark at rivals
Who would presume to dare to steal your beau
But now you fumble in your failing memory
For words, like once you rummaged in that store,
That snakeskin handbag’s all-consuming hold.
But phrases now are lost, which won’t emerge
And keep themselves confined like all those secrets hid
That you kept safe inside that purse’s grasp
When you were elegant and fresh with youth.