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"An Empty Room In a Quiet House"
by Cristy M.
The echoes fall from her tresses
longer aged than they had been
a week ago/once were calico shades.
In the pores of a mirror's photograph
she quiets the catastrophe of a mind
that's lonesome in despair--
like the air of a romance novel,
the stead of a glass' frames.
When an eyelash falls, the
general-to-recent past is replaced
with a happy accident await in coming.
She combs her hair back from her face
and listens to the reverb down the hallway.
12/10/2006 Posted on 12/11/2006
Copyright © 2026 Cristy M.
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 12/23/06 at 09:59 AM I think Cristy that you have achieved wonder filled imagery here, and a bit off beat and surreal; elements which I particularly find fascinating in poems which add more to their mystery. |
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