Moving Images by S.T. Martin2012


 moving images

out of the swirling mists of time

images flit like scenes on a movie screen.

her dark hair in short cut, smooth and sleek,

lying coyly against perfect curve of cheek.

next image of child with chopped-off bangs

standing forlornly in kitchen doorway,

little striped cotton pants fall low,

eyes peer cautiously into lamplight’s glow.

through fog i see her glance at me:

mother’s gaze, so full of certainty.

daughter will survive harsh world,

grow into a brave, steady girl.

how wrong she was, this mother mine

lost now to cruel winds of time

for tumult wrecked the childhood lost

onto rocky shore fair dream was tossed.

i awaken to alarm clock’s clang

begin another drudgey day to slog,

put memory away till later time

when night’s embrace again lets film unwind.

by S.T. Martin   c. 2012

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