I watched you fade
Away in those short
Young years of mine.
Grey hair framing
A deeply lined face;
Corrugated by life
In the hard lane.
Ten children later,
Your husband no more.
An air of poverty,
Never talked about.
You were always sat
In your chair by the fire;
Summer and winter
Waiting to give audience
To whoever dropped by,
Radio crackling in the
Background-
Mrs Dale, Workers Playtime,
The Archers?
I can’t remember.
You were like a sunflower
In a drought; wilting slowly
Towards the ground
You would soon be part of.
I saw you that week;
I didn’t say goodbye.
I never saw you again.
-
Author:
Michael Arnold (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 13th, 2020 12:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- User favorite of this poem: Mikal.
Offline)
Comments6
A super sensitive write . Really enjoyed the read - did flinch at the word 'sat' (sitting) but it's a rather petty point to make.
Beautiful and sad Mikal.
Grandmas who lived quietly like you describe here deserve tributes like this one to your own much loved "sunflower" who though wilting slowly " left behind love. Thanks for sharing your memories with us Mikal.
I never knew my grandparents but boy does this hit the spot.
Your words mine the emotions.
Wonderful words Mikal, so full of meaning.
Welcome to MPS.
Andy
Very relatable! I loved the words how you pieced your poem together. Put me in tears! Nice piece.
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