a Poem for Tuesday Platform -- Sweeping, Dustpans, Crumbs
Sweeping up the crumbs
Seems my life has forever been sweeping up the crumbs
Crumbs left from the night before, sometimes days before
Even stretching onto days and months, seasons and years
Crumbs left from the night before. Those crumbs we have
Most are from nights of enjoyment, eating, living to fulfill
Fulfilling the dullness of our lives. Pleasurable moments
Then the price to pay is the broom handle of the mornings
Oft time much more cleaning than the broom can do
I'll take the broom in hand, and the dustpan I've waiting
Waiting on the wall just for the crumbs of the night before
Those crumbs are from my hand, once in while from my foot
But generally there has been a partner as part of the crime
One tale I'll tell, you can imagine others. Innocence can
be an excuse, often for my partners they were. When a teen
I'd found a package of 'smokes', lying where I've never told
Grabbed my sister by the hand, to the creek we hiked
Down by the creek we smoked, on the tree lined banks
You might can remember your first smoke, this was hers
It was big time for me, grownup like, mimicking their pleasure
For her it wasn't fun, she puked the bottom of her stomach
I don't know if that was when we returned to the house or it all
happened down at the creek. She tells her story seems each day
How she quit the habit after two cigarettes, Never smoked again
I've spent a lifetime sweeping early crumbs, naughty boys and girls
Those other episodes I've mentioned, some were life changing
Other crumbs from the night. A lot firsts for me as a young adult
Times only me, one or a few others, and God. Some I believe that
I'm the only one left alive to tell. Some I'll never tell to anyone
Imagine what, likely they be. Yours too, safe harbor in our heads
Mine keep my broom going, dust pan getting full. Empty it quickly
- - - - -
.
Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov
All Rights Reserved
I'm linked again with Kelly O'Conner at the Imaginary Garden
with Real Toads, The Tuesday Platform
~~ http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/03/the-tuesday-platform_28.html
Labels: Jim's Life, Lois, Poem, prose poem, Real Toads, Tuesday Platform
9 Comments:
I like how you compare the times in life to crumbs. After we experience things it seems that's all that's left.
I love this poem, full of sweeping crumbs and memories.
I wonder how many crumbs I have swept up or away in my lifetime.
Ah yes, those crumbs. :)
Oh this is beautifully deep and wise ❤️
Leave no trace ;)
I do love this. So many crumbs in our lives.
We leave a trail of crumbs, and each one is a story.
Imagine what, likely they be. Yours too, safe harbor in our heads
Mine keep my broom going, dust pan getting full. Empty it quickly
Great ending Dr Jim! It provides a finality. A wonderful habit to clear things up upon completion
Hank
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