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Remembering You

Remembering You

A ghostly flower blooming and withering,
(or blot) blinking with colors that strain to brightness,
to equal those of what were seen before;
fragments, with the music or plain utterances
attempting to be as loud (or as soft)
as what they really were...

But all in vain.

Blurred and ephemeral. Just for a haunting and fleeting...
Many times an unexpected visitor,
an intruder, inside...

What is complete and constant is that depressing spirit:

Void of form and details, yet lingering, encumbering,
dragging. Punctuated, highlighted,
by the thief that intermittently
gives, curses, and leaves

with a piece.

To Be Honest









To Be Honest

  

I’m a liar 

and a thief, 

I’m older now

so I don’t care, 

I suffered 

too much.

I’ve stolen time,

taken words 

not mine 

and created 

something new,

moving letters,

owning it, 

making it rhyme,

making it mine.

Sometimes 

I steal things, 

a pack of gum,

sunglasses, 

a light scarf,

words 

and ideas too.

Everyone does

they call it 

research,

some give credit,

others don’t.

The message 

is the thing,

it’s important

to notice-

harm, iniquity,

speak out,

be brave,

seek change, 

to speak 

the truth.

 

Pamela Corbett

  

Pamela Corbett is a writer and teacher who lives in Bedford Hills, NY with her husband, three children, and their dog, Sofie. She loves to garden, read, and bike along the horse farms and reservoirs, as well as out on Fire Island where there are no cars. She is inspired by the grace of nature. Her work has previously appeared in Haiku Journal, Boston Literary Magazine, The Journal of Classical Poets, and Prelude Magazine.  She is currently working on a memoir about her mother.

 

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