Memories Iii: Tapestries Ii of Iii
A strike of a match would briefly carve
His weatherworn features
From the darkness full of his words
Echoes from history of an exorbitant life
A face full of history and mystery
That still lingers
In my minds eye
I remember the darkest richest of nights
As the crimson end of that cigarette with its
Glowing tip dances orange bright
Tracing images in to my imagination
Like a lantern illuminating
The darkest of mysteries he weaved a tapestry
Of light bleeding into obscurity of his history
Lived out fast like the flare
Of that amber fire match
Its spark curving sharp shadows
on hands worn & rugged
Moving in a steady flow & flutter
Punctuating the highlights
The exaggerations and ebbs of rhythm
that illustrated his story
A little spark of orange light illuminated each important event
Etching his life lived in my memory
Now fading imagery
I remember tracing firelight arcs
Trails like scarlet comets
& the perfect dark glowing
brighter as he inhaled his aromatic smoke.
The little orange sun carving dark shadows
On that weatherworn face still
Copyright © Poet Tellaferro | Year Posted 2022
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