Looking Glass / Remembrance

Severus Alexander

Remembrance is a fickle thing

A seeming love, and sometimes tame

 

A look into the window yours

For a moment thought forever lost

 

But never should you tarry here

A word of caution, a fleeting thought

 

For once did I find myself

staring in for such a while

 

That the sun began to set

and shadows stretched upon the wall

 

And something from a nightmare past

a terror I had long forgot

 

Put its hand upon the glass

And stared back out at me

 

So always, please remember this

however lovely should the sight appear

 

Do not stay here very long

Listen briefly to that soothing song

 

And be gone from here

 

Lest that creature who hides in the shadow of joy

Figment of forgotten pain

 

leave its place at the window

And scratch upon the door

 

We can never wholly leave this place

where something guides us back

 

So come without reluctance

And mayhap for a while stay

 

And peer in through the sunlit glass

Smile, and then look away

 

Find within yourself

A place in our reality

 

Looking back, I cannot help but hope and hear

The faintest echoing chord

 

The quiet notes of music

Which give life authentic feel

 

A lovely kind of certainty

Existence in a waking dream

 

  • Author: Severus Alexander (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 24th, 2016 07:59
  • Comment from author about the poem: Remembered sorrow is the only kind~
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 24
  • Users favorite of this poem: ThePearlPoet
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Comments +

Comments4

  • LaRose

    Severus thanks again. Though we know each other not, we have the same mud on our boots.

  • Severus Alexander

    Thank you, LaRose.

    I would draw your attention to a line by Robert Frost;

    "Men work together.... Whether they work together or apart."

    Although, in theory, many things separate us..

    ...be they culture, age, ideal, or simply distance...

    I do believe that we write from similar places;

    Similar places within the heart~

    So, In a way, I do know you.











  • Severus Alexander

    On my boots...

    Age and rough terrain have rendered them worn, but the leather is still crisp, and sturdy.

    The soles are supple still, and have molded to the bottoms of my feet over years of use.

    A mixture of mud and dry leaves is plastered to the bottom of each, which has consistently resisted cleaning for quite some time.

    Upon further examination, the
    leaves are not the muddy brown of decaying foliage; they are a crisp, golden yellow.

    Two roads diverged in a yellow wood~

    ~And sorry I could not travel both..

    I looked down one as far as I could~

    ~To where it bent in the undergrowth...



  • Severus Alexander

    - "The road not taken,"

    By Robert Frost.



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