by Dagmar Wilson   Jan 4, 2018

I never completely understand
that the colors of our past can change,
when taken a tour
the dark has faded but you still see the prints.

The peachtrees are gone
apples went sour,
lavendar has been replaced
with the smell of moth balls.

Like a teaspoon of clear liquid
fighting the symptons,
the problem keeps nesting.

I've died many times
brought back to life
November is a crucial month.
I learned something about death
it's silent and unexpected.


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by Kitty Cat Lady

    Such a profound write Dagmar. Nostalgia is sometimes best left alone, it's never the same or as good as we remembered. Just excellent! :-) x

  • 5 years ago

    by ddavidd

    Still dark. Though very powerful. Deserved the nomination.

  • 5 years ago

    by CJ Maleney

    Ooh Dagmar this is fantastic.

    The images it conjures are pretty powerful and I called almost imagine the scents.

    Brilliant work


  • 5 years ago

    by Milly Hayward

    Loved this. When you revisit the past it's never quite the same. I liked the thought of the scent of lavender having veen replaced with the smell of decay setting up nicely the feeling of decay. The last two lines sum up nicely with the uncompromising fact that death is silent and unexpected. It's that fact that encourages to live life to the best of our abilities because we never know when death will take us. This is interesting and thought provoking because it has much depth to ponder on. Best wishes Milly x

    • 5 years ago

      by Dagmar Wilson

      Thank you so very much for your inspiring comment. Best wishes to you.

More Poems By Dagmar Wilson

People Who Liked This Also Liked