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Déjà vu

Steamed glass breeds recollection,
fingers trace on a frosted window pane,
  the daydreams of lovers
  on a winter morning
    when nothing could go wrong.

The clean snow fell and danced
along my nose, tickled and
  made me feel like a child again.

The winds brushed against me,
and slipped between my coat and jeans
  like a familiar lover,
  confident of his travels,

and I was innocent in love.

The years fell like flakes and
I am older now,
  much heartier for my faults
  and more forgiving of yours.

But still my heart quickens,

  and my voice catches like a moonbeam

  on the edge of the window shade,

when my thoughts again stray
back to a frozen day, playing in
  the newly fallen wonderland with
  the boy

    whose face I can finally see.

Author notes

Binghamton?


X.X.X.

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Comments

1 - 5 of 5

  • individuality gold member
    September 10

    Edit | Reply
    a good poem, ah love, i suppose when we are younger it is more magical, i don't know, or maybe it just appears that way as we grow older, i like the confident wind imagery used here.


  • Swan song gold member
    October 5, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    This is a stunning poem of reflection very well done!!!


  • Loki silver member
    July 31, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Congratulations on winning gold angel. This poem definitely deserved it.

    X.X.X.


  • lightswitches
    July 31, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    This was really good. The second stanza reminded me of Edward Scissor Hands... "I still like to dance in it"
    hehe
    thanks for entering!

  • Loki silver member
    July 24, 2008

    Edit | Reply

    Binghamton indeed.

     

    So many wonderful parts. You always astound me with your word usage.

     

     " Steamed glass breeds recollection,
    fingers trace on a frosted window pane,"

     

    " The winds brushed against me,
    and slipped between my coat and jeans
      like a familiar lover,
      confident of his travels,"

     

    Absolutely wonderful word choice. I love this stanza.

     

    "and my voice catches like a moonbeam

      on the edge of the window shade,"

     

     " when my thoughts again stray
    back to a frozen day, playing in
      the newly fallen wonderland with
      the boy

        whose face I can finally see."

     

    Perfect closing as always. I do so much enjoy being that boy.

     

    X.X.X. 

     

     

1 - 5 of 5