in
my mind my mind
is
now dotted with ill-used fields
many
barren a few overgrown
wild wasted bad bleak neglected
desolate deserted
it
happened gently insofar as it was
not
planned
not
managed
not
even noticed
stealthy workings of my mind
beneath my mind
there
are pits brambles nettles stones
& the occasional bright meadow
of
long-stalked perennials
that
keep reaching each year
to a cloud-studded sky
lit by crepuscular rays
draft ©HM 2018
I've been watching a lot of home fixer-upper shows lately. They are the background for some writing, walking the treadmill and washing dishes. The shows in the UK tickle me because of the lingo. Rooms/homes are sometimes describes as "tatty" or "unloved." Your poem reminds me of one of these shows in a way that a room in a house has gone unloved for a while....not intentionally so. But, it's a really, really good description of what time and the busy-ness of all that goes on in time can do...an erosion of sorts. I love the very complete picture this poem paints.
ReplyDeleteLoving this one!! Sometimes we don't notice how things slip away from us--until we do. BEAUTIFUL.
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