Before the ticking clock slips
Into the bright hour of dawn,
Faint footsteps echo along
The paths of forgotten dreams.
Memories stir from their crypts;
A door creaks within the depth;
Years loop in a lemniscate,
As if time past has no seams.
Rooted in a tangled, twisted vision,
I look for a route out of indecision.
~*~
Written for the Sunday Whirl Wordle 731 (rooted, years, footsteps, creaks, look, stir, hour, loop, clock, echo, before, slips). I felt inspired by this word set and decided to write a poem with my own rhyme scheme. Does “lemniscate” sound too weird (lem-nih-sket)? It’s the term for the infinity symbol. Generally, I prefer more accessible language, but it seemed to fit nicely.
I am currently grappling with the idea of retiring, realizing that 6 decades of always having somewhere to be on weekdays is coming to an end. That's a huge change! Your poem seems to fit with the coming of this new life of no weekday routine.
ReplyDeleteKeera, I hear ya (kinda rhymes)! I plan to work until age 70, but today it was all gloomy & rainy & it sure would have been nice to stay home with Inky…
ReplyDeleteYeah, I used to aim for working until 70. Then things happened to change me, and I had to change my mind. Life sure stays interesting!
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