Fading MemoriesI remember my mother –
red-haired and five foot two
in her stockings.
Holding a bunch of roses
in front of gaily patterned
seventies wallpaper
she smiles at the camera,
pleased with the First, Second, Third
rosettes from the local flower show.
The roses are gone now
bulldozed to make way for a new road
when my father died,
but they live on
in a faded photograph
and my swiftly fading
memories.
28 comments:
Utterly lovely.
even without the painting, this poem brings a clear image to mind! Your poem reminds us of how the world often changes around us (the bulldozers) leaving us with only memories.
Memories may fade, but I think they survive, do not disappear entirely, with the recollecting and re-telling. Warm-hearted poem!
So lovely, it warrant a tear or two ... but the land have memories, and as long as the land is there, the memories will live on, faded or not.
I see you in her Rachel - so she will always live on.
Memories are a strange and elusive thing aren't they?
Poignant. It is so important to hold on to those memories, especially when so much is bulldozed by 'progress(?)'.
Your memories poem brings to my mind the old song, "Put Up a Parking Lot.' You may remember it. Lots of nice time rememberances were bulldozed away then.
I was thinking of my mom this week, Mrs. Jim's mother died two years ago yesterday.
She is the second post on this blog (paste it):
http://jimmielife1.blogspot.com/
..
I can really picture your mother captured in this poem standing next to the wallpaper.
There are some things bulldozers can not destroy and memories are just one of them.
The road in front of my house is paved but ... many times I can sit on my front porch and see it when it was a dirt road where I saw horse drawn wagons come by to sell watermelons and cantaloupes on a warm Summer day.
Thanks for the nudge to this time...
by writing this poem and painting this picture it seems at least one memory (a beautiful one) is sharpened until the next time you need a look back. Thank you miss...
So sad. But it is a lovely memory so hold on to that.
Greta portrait too.
Thank you all. Your comments are appreciated :)
Delightful, to say the least. What roads do such roses give way to? The romantic in me would turn the clock back.... Thanks for this.
Beautiful.
Ah...there you are!
Now I've made the connection...just added you as a friend on FB, and wondered if/when you post poems, as well as comments on others' poems! Now I see!
This was lovely--and we can see your beautiful mother as well. Proud of her roses. And time sways forward as well as occasionally marching...
Thank you for these images and feelings.
Thank you Beth :)
Nice to see you here, too.
How quickly life moves on...and leaves memories in its place. Nice work.
That is a really nice memory, and one you have a memento of. As a gardener, I think it is too bad about the roses, but I know things and times have to change.
Warm & thoughtful..
Thank you :)
Alas, I never had the thumb for roses that she had.
but they live on
in a faded photograph
and my swiftly fading
memories.
---
indeed.
nice last lines.
Thank you Floreta :)
holding on to a fading memory.. beautiful
Thank you kindly :)
Lovely poem Rach, made of your memories. Made me sad.
Don't be sad. She loved her live and died instantly.
brilliant words and vibrant picture. i often wonder what remains of us and what happens to the rest. maybe that's why we write.
Perhaps.
I don't write to be remembered, though - my novels will quickly age and be forgotten.
Post a Comment