Best Nostalgialost Poems
Fingerprints on frozen windows
Night of wonder
Avenue of lost souls
She waits..maybe his shadow will play
the "game of shapes" on walls of skyscrapers
The street is as naked as her heart
She knows she's not so good looking on the outside
but what a rhapsody of soul...
even the marine layer cries with joy on balconies of roses.
I hold her tears in my little, pink jewelry box
I lost the key to wind up the spring of the little ballerina inside
I go and visit the place with windows
but there are no more fingerprints..
The place was sold...
THE LOST WAGON TRAIN
Last fall, hurriedly clearing the attic,
We were packing lots of books and crocks
For the church rummage sale frantic.
My son grabbed a book from one box,
And threw it on the heap marked “low priced stocks”
Cowboy book, hardback with title unheard.
It was a small novel, really cheap you’d say,
With some handwritten word
On the home-made dust cover gray:
THE LOST WAGON TRAIN by Zane Grey.
I said no, son, gimme that please - that stays with me.
But dad, it’s only a Zane Grey book.
Son, its gran’s handwriting don’t you see?
The dust cover was made by my mother - look.
. . . . . And when she went, it’s just about all I took.
He gently blew the dust off, and gave me it clean.
I had mislaid it and never would have guessed.
Time stood still : it seemed only yesterday I had seen
Her write it - she loved Zane Grey stories about the West.
And I realized how much I loved cowboy movies best.
C’mon dad, he whispered, I ought
To get this stuff packed quick and on the road myself,
Seeing me daydreaming in deep thought.
I went and put it where it belonged itself,
On our living room ‘s central bookshelf.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written for Paula Swanson’s Contest “Yard Sale”
Familiar face, loving face...
the past back in a flash,
memories of days gone by,
my face weathered by age.
The past back in a flash,
her face looking the same,
my face weathered by age...
a friendly hug, a loving kiss.
Her face looking the same...
a remembered time together;
a friendly hug, a loving kiss,
loving stories exchanged.
A remembered time together...
we laugh, we talk;
loving stories exchanged,
but mainly we yearn.
We laugh, we talk
for what was or what never could be,
but mainly we yearn;
we yearn for lost time, for innocence.
For what was or what never could be
yes, we yearn for ourselves;
we yearn for lost time, for innocence...
we yearn for our lost selves.
Yes, we yearn for ourselves...
did we become better?
we yearn for our lost selves...
why didn't we stay together?
Did we become better -
the stories finally end;
why didn't we stay together...
we can never go back.
The stories finally end,
memories of days gone by;
we can never go back...
familiar face, loving face.
For "Back to Back" contest sponsored by Paula Swanson.