she flipped carefully through
the yellowing pages of her life
feeling the sting of her "youth" on her fingertips
she smiled at his receding hairline
and the still smoking wick of her birthday candles
she remembered every moment,
somethings are not like afterbirth,
the undesirable which is discarded and forgotten
no, somethings are like slowly peeling wallpaper
and just as torn wallpaper cheapens a neat room,
these memories dampen all surrounding ones.
But she left these thoughts,
to finger her wrinkles,
and he's steadily growing bald spots
"you know, we're aging as gracefully as milk."
Author notes
Oh! Oh! look! I wrote a happy poem!!!!!
A contest entry
- Words for the Few by SurelyWritten.
390 points, ended May 3, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This is an interesting poem... I really like the insight that you have shown us into their lives
the soft imagery and inclusion of the word bank is wonderful - I wish you the best in the contest!
Keep writing
Polly
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