"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Monday, February 16, 2015


We wrote promises
hung them on a keychain
and put them in the junk drawer
among all the odds and ends
we thought we would use again.

Days ran downhill into years
until watching dreams crumble
rusted our starlight eyes.

Every spring we prop the windows open
with last years unfinished, rifle through
decades of memories, and pretend
faded ink wasn't the key to our misery.

©Susie Clevenger 2015

(Not every poem is about me. )  :)  

Sunday Mini-Challenge ~ Promising Prompt


Sherry Blue Sky said...

:rusted our starlight eyes"....wow.........beaUTIful write, Susie and LOL at the "not every poem is about me".

Björn Rudberg said...

Oh those promises that can just lay there resting,,without refreshed ink how can we pretend they're valid,

Marian said...

sad :(

Outlawyer said...

A great metaphor, Susie, something about both chain and key! A bit of an oxymoron it one we rarely think about. Thanks. K.

georgeplaceblog said...

Days ran downhill into years until watching dreams crumble rusted our starlight eyes..... That is soooo good.

Ella said...

Sad and haunting-yet so beautifully written! I love your "rusted our starlight eyes"..wow, great imagery!

Kerry O'Connor said...

Excellent turn around, Susie. You always write with a keen eye on the vagaries of relationships.

Grace said...

How sad to watch dreams crumble rusted our starlight eyes ~ Good one Susie ~

Margaret said...

ahh.. the junk drawer. Or junk drawer(s) in my case.

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