Tag: time
member name: Terry Collett
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May 14, 2008 03:08 AM EDT --
He didn't
Care what those
Others thought
Or said, their
Words and thoughts
Were as dry
Dust and wind;
It was her
Thoughts and words,
What she thought,
What she said,
He wished . . .
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December 11, 2009 07:20 AM EST --
Sister Augustine could still hear Father Woodworth's homily in her ears as she walked steadily along the cloister towards the refectory after Mass. It had been better than his usual half-hour long . . .
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May 10, 2009 01:37 PM EDT --
After all this, what then?
You ask. Another day
To think and feel,
Another time to sense
The emptiness of arms,
The loss of child.
There is no loss like that,
Not in the same sense, . . .
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April 24, 2008 03:28 AM EDT --
The baby was her first,
The first she had held;
Held so close to her breast,
Sensed the little hand
Reach out and touch,
Felt the tiny fingers
Tickle the teat; smelt
The baby smell,
. . .
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December 26, 2008 04:54 AM EST --
And I shall love her still,
Said he, though time and
Its cruel sickle cut
Her down in size and
Take the brightness from
Her eyes, and turn her
Dark locks of hair to
Changed them into that
. . .
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July 25, 2008 04:24 PM EDT --
She'll see shadows
Where there is none,
Hear voices long
Since died, swear like
A trooper, curse
The hell out of
All who listen,
The days mud
Muddled, the hours
Mingled with those . . .
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May 17, 2007 01:59 AM EDT --
“My mirrored self,” she said,
“Is my single foe;
Its dark dim eyes, its vacant gaze
Reminds me of far better days
Than these it brings to face.
The wrinkled skin,
The crow’s feet . . .
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December 21, 2007 11:41 AM EST --
I don't think they go there anymore,
The shoreline is empty,
And the tide rushes lonely up the beach
Waiting for the people to return
With their suntans and laughter,
And the bikini girls after . . .
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May 06, 2008 03:31 AM EDT --
It was the old nun,
Sister John Jiggins,
Who'd come to her room
That night at the old
Guesthouse, to talk to
Her about the life
Of contemplative
Nuns, the ancient Rule
Of the Order, . . .
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May 12, 2008 02:37 AM EDT --
Her only crime
Is getting old,
Forgetting to
Pee at the right
Time in the right
Place; forgetting
The previous
Visitor's face;
Talking softly
With the dead who
Answer her back, . . .
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April 26, 2009 02:58 PM EDT --
Each bead she moves
A prayer is said,
Her thin fingers
Rub over the smooth wood,
A shine from much rubbing,
Not hers alone
From her grandmother, too,
Over those years,
And . . .
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April 27, 2009 02:10 AM EDT --
Polly was a pinup.
Polly graced the front of
Girly calendars and
Magazines and posters
Advertising all those
Miscellaneous girl
Items. She knew that her
Father would never have . . .
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May 06, 2009 08:08 AM EDT --
You've been here before.
The room looks familiar,
The wallpaper has the same pattern,
The curtains have that hang
Of tiredness from too much wear.
But who was the dame?
What . . .
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June 13, 2007 01:59 AM EDT --
Where’s all the time gone?
Ceili asked, watching her daughter
Play hopscotch in the street,
The way the small legs moved,
The excitement, the curls
Up and down as the head rose and fell. . . .
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October 04, 2007 03:24 AM EDT --
There was nothing more to say,
Because he had had his way
And left it at that,
And couldn’t be bothered
To stay and see
How she was
Or if she wanted
To have a goodbye kiss;
But no, he just went . . .
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October 11, 2007 05:06 PM EDT --
One of those days,
She said, when numbness
Invades my body parts
And heart grows cold
With outer world and games
It plays to amuse or confuse.
One of those times,
She murmured, when light
Seems shallower . . .
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December 16, 2007 12:11 PM EST --
Along the beach the children play,
With bucket and spade
And pebbles and sand
And odd shells abandoned
And cast aside by the sea's swell.
I can hear them still;
Their castles of sand
Washed . . .
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February 27, 2008 03:17 PM EST --
When the bell from the cloister clock chimed, Sister Bede rose from her bed, picked up her towel, soap and flannel and walked on tiptoe along the dark passage to the showers at the other side of . . .
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March 04, 2008 03:34 AM EST --
Even now, she still holds
The doll as if it could
Be the mascot of some
Terrible age, the mind's
Memory clogged with bilge,
The images flooding
Each nightly dream, the harsh
Echoing . . .
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March 09, 2008 03:47 AM EDT --
I resent your getting old,
Death's cold touch seems closer now.
Somehow, when I draw quite near
I smell the fear in my pores,
And those claws, crimson and black,
Seek to draw back through . . .
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