Thread: Sneezes

Sneezes

Sometimes I look at her
and I can see our lives
once we’ve grown older;
but there are never faces.
Our wrinkled, peach pit cheeks
hide from my imagination.
We’re shrouded in different clothes,
surrounded by heavier furniture
and tinier versions of our own silhouettes.

We’ve sprouted into something
close to our intentions,
but somehow better—more organic;
and I don’t see people that will die
like fought back sneezes—
painful muffled thunder,
seeds buried too late (or not at all).

We are not our parents,
drowning adults without friends,
broken by comfortable careers;
we’ve people to escape with
so when we return home we’re happy
to pass silently into the bedroom
and whisper goodnight to a better friend.

Interesting poem - but I haven't understood it. Is "her" your partner or mother? And I don't get the seed analogy. Or the "better friend"? Probably my dullness! I think I understand the overall message/observation, that we do not project our futures to be the same as our parents present?

ah, i like this. very well written, nice playful sounds, very original. i've only got one real crit:

"we’ve people to escape with" this line feels a bit awkward, i think "we have..." would sound better, then that may just be me. enjoyed reading this very much.

wood

This is so intriguing...I completely get where you are going , and I loved it, made me just a little sad...I thought the peach pit cheeks was very vivid imagery. I guess change can be ok--I am just not ready for it yet, but relationships never stay the same. as we age--change happens.... Thank you for posting. Peace...Jul