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shifted
by Angela Thomasi've put years on like girls my age
put on their lipgloss. my mother's
death, the rebound and loss of great
love, learning who i am in the process
all sit on my face in the corner
of my eyes. looking back at pictures
to the untrained, unknowing eye,
you would never know. but something
has shifted. a permanent, invisible veil
pulled over my view of the world shrouds
my smile from full blossom. the maturation
sits in my eyes like sand falls to the bottom
of a glass of water and collects on the cool
surface, always there even when resting.
06/12/2011 Posted on 06/12/2011
Copyright © 2024 Angela Thomas
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 06/13/11 at 10:02 PM This thing has so many wonderful details captured throughout. It represents a great eye for the visual. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 06/23/11 at 03:22 PM Unique expression of sorrow. |
| Posted by Ariane Scott on 06/25/11 at 01:41 PM The tone in this piece as well as the other I just read has made me a fan. I love the matter of fact eloquence, the sorrow so palpable. Fabulous imagery here, the translation of feeling (something just underneath) into something tangible. All of a sudden my parents got older, and now there are surgeries, threats of death. When it hits me they are so much closer to death than even 5 years ago, and it could come at any time, I am so miserable. I can't imagine life without them. I feel for you and am so sorry you lost your mom. |
| Posted by Kristine Briese on 06/30/11 at 11:36 PM Exquisite. |
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