Polaroid
In the end, small details
reveal the hidden story.
The pointless journey undertaken,
the heartbreak of refused entrance,
the litany of woes & troubles
that pursued her for years after.
In the photo, she smiles,
acknowledging unspoken volumes,
the nuance of weakness
like ticking time bomb,
testing the very concept of
courage.
All this, all for one,
all for the cause of fanaticism
dressed up as innocence.
You swallow hard, try to recall
where it was taken, circumstances
that memory won’t reveal:
fuzzy at best, a brief toehold on
the cascading collapse
that was already well on its way.
The waterfall of disappointment,
a love painful in its simplicity,
concealing great despair
behind powders & creams.
This was an instant in time,
a blanket placed carefully
as something to hide behind,
a gesture to modesty,
a pitiful keepsake transformed
into sentimental memento.
She is gone forever,
& you struggle to hold
these possibly poignant memories
from the inevitable, indomitable
slow fade to black.
Gary Glauber is a poet, fiction
writer, teacher, and former music journalist. His works have received
multiple Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations. He champions the
underdog to the melodic rhythms of obscure power pop. His two collections, Small
Consolations (Aldrich Press) and Worth the Candle (Five Oaks Press) and a chapbook
Memory Marries Desire (Finishing Line Press) are available through Amazon.
Tags:
Poetry