The little princess rests easily upon her shelf
Her green skin dressed in a layer of dust and grime
Guarding her small delicate body from notice
Carefully, I take her from the shelf, cupping her in my hands
With a cloth, I begin to slowly clear away the dust
Starting with her small umbrella, revealing the cranes dancing across it
Next comes her little jade slippers glistening and sparkling as I clean
Her green dress smooth and cold to the touch
Last comes the face, her smile beautiful and vibrant
Her hair pulled back, the artist emphasizing each strand
My hands shake as I take my figurine back to the desk
The customer stands there waiting for my princess,
Tossing a wad of bills on the desk, he watches the clock
He waits impatiently as I delicately wrap her in layers of paper
Grasping the Jade Lady in a large meaty hand, he leaves my store
The bell a hollow sign of a Princess' passage
Shadows gather in her abandoned hollow on the shelf.
With a sigh, I take back up the cloth and start clearing out the dust.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Memories
Staring across the black waters of Lake Geneva, a girl in my arms and a smile on my lips,
The pounding of the heavy metal music in my blood and ears, sweat pouring down my body,
A tear sliding down her face as we say goodbye, turning I keep my own from falling,
Wind tearing through my hair as we turn the sailboat into it, fingers trailing through the waters,
The twinkle and spark in my eye as we dance on the bar, Chinese faces foreign but filled with the same pleasure,
A clock showing four in the morning, as the computer screen blurs and burns, a pile of open psychology books and a deadline fast approaching,
His eye flickers a little as I stare down at the sterile hospital bed, the only motion he can still control as the disease takes from him what is most precious,
Glass globes fill every niche and corner of the room, each a perfect memory,
Dust lays thick on some, and others shine with an inner light,
Some are fogged and stained over, and more yet are crystal clear,
Delicately one is lifted off the soft pillow it rests on,
Inside I hold someone precious to me as we listen to music fill our hearts, and souls,
With a crash that sounds deafening in the silence the globe shatters on the ground,
Its neighbor, a scene of a hospital bed and a scared little boy, follows it to the floor boards the smashing of glass its death cry,
Slowly with building fury, I take each memory off its shelf and smash it to the floor, hurl it against the wall, crush it beneath a boot heel,
Until nothing remains but empty shelves and bits and pieces of glass,
Turning I walk out the door and close it firmly behind…
The pounding of the heavy metal music in my blood and ears, sweat pouring down my body,
A tear sliding down her face as we say goodbye, turning I keep my own from falling,
Wind tearing through my hair as we turn the sailboat into it, fingers trailing through the waters,
The twinkle and spark in my eye as we dance on the bar, Chinese faces foreign but filled with the same pleasure,
A clock showing four in the morning, as the computer screen blurs and burns, a pile of open psychology books and a deadline fast approaching,
His eye flickers a little as I stare down at the sterile hospital bed, the only motion he can still control as the disease takes from him what is most precious,
Glass globes fill every niche and corner of the room, each a perfect memory,
Dust lays thick on some, and others shine with an inner light,
Some are fogged and stained over, and more yet are crystal clear,
Delicately one is lifted off the soft pillow it rests on,
Inside I hold someone precious to me as we listen to music fill our hearts, and souls,
With a crash that sounds deafening in the silence the globe shatters on the ground,
Its neighbor, a scene of a hospital bed and a scared little boy, follows it to the floor boards the smashing of glass its death cry,
Slowly with building fury, I take each memory off its shelf and smash it to the floor, hurl it against the wall, crush it beneath a boot heel,
Until nothing remains but empty shelves and bits and pieces of glass,
Turning I walk out the door and close it firmly behind…
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