These I have loved amongst many others.
That green-handled oval hand mirror,
dusty, with paint that would peel and crack.
Held just right, it allowed me to squeeze
those difficult to get pimples on my back.
The old dirty Lino floating under the rugs
collecting snot balls and hair in the corners
Those rugs made a comfort of the floor,
on which I danced like my favourite performers.
The old dirty bed clothes where everyone sat
would become the warmth that each night needed.
The glass in the window, sagging with age,
so often slammed shut and mistreated.
These little nostalgias are a cold comfort,
prickly reminders of all that was
I don’t want to hold on to them anymore.
All these have been my loves.
Written for dVerse Poetics: The Great Lover. I like to reminisce and be nostalgic but it is becoming a reminder of feelings that will not be repeated. While I spend most of my time analysing my own past to understand who I am, I’m also conscious that the little time left to us is being wasted in the process too. This poem could have gone on a lot longer (and maybe one day it will). I think I mentioned this elsewhere, but it brings to mind the Big Black lyric, ‘I know what a liar I am, I should know me by now.’
1994ever 
oh wow! didn’t like each turn at the ends of the stanzas, until of course the end where it all comes together. a well crafted write.
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This was a very different take on the prompt and I actually liked it. Even if the snot part made me cringe out loud. But poetry should make one feel something, right?
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