|
Dirt Catcher
by Alisa Js
She lingers, just out of reason
Somewhere behind
Past her season of full fruition
Of shame, it now seems
Pitiful at worst,
Pathetic at best
Her memory stops at this current reflection
Wayward direction or focused intention
Of who, when, or what
No longer a scene from a long ago dream
This wide angle leaves
A shudder affixed,
Ablaze
Seared.
Clinging to hopes long dead
With some vague rendition of a miracle resurrection
If the flame can survive
Testy droplets of regret
Mixed between bittersweet's singe
The question arises
An answer submitted,
She looks in disdain
As the messenger stumbles below,
And the cycle returns
Making memories of dirt
Soot and pain
06/08/2008 Posted on 06/09/2008
Copyright © 2025 Alisa Js
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 06/09/08 at 10:24 PM ...alisa, just this a.m. driving in i was poetically wondering if and when all these vehicles evolve into dust annnnnd the people in them, me included, sheeesh!...great write...charlie |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 06/12/08 at 05:51 AM She sounds useless, isn't it? |
| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 06/14/08 at 04:17 AM Looks to me like quite a lot of pain and anger, plus some disgusted or frustrated hopes are being released here. Two lines jump out at me - "Past her season of full fruition..." - which makes me think of a body clock ticking. "With some vague rendition of a miracle resurrection/If the flame can survive...." In this line, there's just a flicker of hope that the past can be recalled and things go back to the way they were, yet the title rather than being one of hope, like "dream catcher" is one negative feeling that the narrator knows it will never happen. |
|
