Monday, June 15, 2015

All That's Left of Our Playtime (a Poem)

I've been busy with some other things, but I do miss writing poetry.

So when I was invited (thank you, Pamela) to join a Poetry Chain on Facebook for which I need to write five poems, and I was told there is no deadline, I decided to accept the challenge. Only, I need to nominate five poets to play along. Interested? If so, please let me know and I will send you the details.

Photo by Daniel Andres Forero
It Was More Fun in Here With You


All That’s Left of Our Playtime

I had a pillow fight
with myself
in my California closet.
I found need, want, love
—you—
tufted and rolled sideways
into the sleeves of my lonesome
vintage dress. You, a boy
made of whimsical designs,
the one who stole
buttons to get
to my heart. You, who
left me
vulnerable, snipped
away my labels,
left me
without a red-carpet gown
for my Hollywood love story,
left me
with only pilled sheets and pillows
and this cavern of a closet,
left me
pretending
you hide inside,
positioning your love
on antique lipstick stains,
left me
rejecting
winks on my pillows,
left me
with nothing but
pillows in an empty closet.



*****




6 comments:

  1. Love this! Sweet, sad, lovely -- nice work, Linda! Thanks for playing along with the Poetry Chain -- and for the link to my blog too. ;-)

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  2. This was bitter, sweet and bittersweet. Excellent imagery.

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  3. Beautiful, Linda. So well crafted!

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, Nurit! I appreciate your feedback, as always!

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