Lost days. ( One of my own poems.)

As I walk into the house, same house as yesterday

I know it is different.

For today I am married.

I look at my hands, young, clumsy hands

Holding the hand of my love.

 

I walk in the house, same house as yesterday

But I know it’s different.

For today I have a new baby.

A new life, so small and wonderful and dependant.

I look at my hands, shaking, and unsure hands

Cradling my newborn daughter.

 

I walk into the house, same house as yesterday

But something’s different.

While working I missed first steps, first words, first teeth.

I look at my hands, strong working hands

Holding my head to cry.

 

I walk into the house, same house as yesterday

But I know something’s different.

For hanging onto my legs is a little girl,

“I’ve made this for you daddy at school”

I look at my hands, contented, proud hands,

Turning the pages of a bedtime storybook.

 

I walk into the house, same house as yesterday

But I know it’s different

No little children’s laughter, instead a woman, vibrant and young,

smiling as she prepares for a date

I look at my hands, older hands

Handing my daughter the keys to the car.

 

I walk into the house, same house as yesterday

But I know it’s different.

Hustle, bustle hurry and scurry, preparing to leave for my daughters wedding

I look at my hands, sad, happy proud hands

Giving the hand of my daughter to the man she loves.

 

I walk into the house, same house as yesterday

But I know it’s the same

Looking into the eyes of the lady beside me.

I look at my hands, old tired hands

Holding the hand of my love.

 

 

 

The end.

 

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. custardfroggy
    Aug 24, 2011 @ 11:58:18

    I remember you sending me this, lovely repeating, gently changing, imagery. A wonderful short long poem.

    Reply

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