untitled

It has been FAR too long since I have written a poem, just because I could. I have written several poems for my classes, that were required and needed to be a specific length, form, and rhythm. However, this poem is just a poem that I wanted to write.  However, I am stuck on the title of the poem. I was once told that the title of a poem is the invitation to a poem for the readers. If you have any suggestions, I would really appreciate it. For now, we will just call it, untitled.

 

Untitled

Still, the clock hands

won’t move. Sound yearns

through the silent walls.

The hands stand still.

 

Timid, the light sways

in the room. The absence

of dark waits patiently.

The light fades.

 

Still, long forgotten are the notes

that played songs and stories

lingering on the laughter.

The piano collects dust.

 

Bare, the oak mantle stands

proud. But there is no

audience to entertain.

The room is bare.

 

Still, there were memories here

that haven’t been erased.

Perhaps just swept into a corner

waiting for the spring breeze.

To shake the memories, awake.

 

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