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soft memories
by Charlie Morgana few people knew her, none were left;
the clamor and din from others murmured
through the rareified, humfelt Arkansas air.
chugging and lugging, the morning sun rolled over
Stone Mountain, Georgia; the morning was working.
already babies cried, the terror of waking
alone and Mama so far away in the next room;
angels still held handfuls of rose petals to drop;
walking through lush fields of wheat and grain,
each top caressing the stems and shoots of others,
they too, bent in the passing of a salute to her.
she stepped on her rainbow, not a squeak was heard.
it was as it should be. her life: a simple joy, now.
they'll be plenty of syrup for her hotcakes; her hands
held nothing but soft memories to be shared in Heaven.
03/31/2011 Posted on 03/31/2011
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 03/31/11 at 01:53 PM Stunning images as I read this. Your word choices always stupify me, and that's a great way to start the day! |
| Posted by Maria Massarella on 03/31/11 at 05:35 PM I had to read this again pondering on which beautiful image I had posed my breath while feeling the brush of soft memories...lovelight&peace m.a |
| Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 04/04/11 at 09:22 PM Beautiful tribute, soft and gentle and yet descriptive of a day and a person. Lovely. smh |
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