The Loss

Standard

My fumbling fingers on the bracelet’s clasp
feel so useless as the sudden drop
sends beads a-skitter, here, there,
under the desk where they evade my grasp.

Some may coast their happy way
to oblivious senescence.
But I have other needs —
needs to reach and find and still to grasp.

 

 

This was written in response to Miz Quickly’s final prompt for the month of March.

 

 

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3 thoughts on “The Loss

  1. Oh, my, gosh Barb, this is where I’m living right now but I’m not sure what I’m grasping for. Not, I know, to do it all again but to find some of the lost passion and reason of life. This is a wonderful, thought-provoking poem.

    • Thanks for visiting and for your kind comments. I am feeling a bit melancholy because my 70th birthday is fast approaching. I feel great, life is good and yet, there’s that nagging feeling of time moving forward.

      • Debi!!! I’ve just read your response to RWJ and realize how little I’ve been paying attention to the writing community I once valued so much. As you described there, I have been unable to write, except in fits and starts and always under heavy prompting (April, internet courses, etc.) for over a year. I too am in a process of spiritual discernment, for want of a better word. It’s difficult for me to reconcile my Christian beliefs with some of what’s being claimed in the name of Christianity at times, and I get discouraged by the world situation in general. I’m not saying we should share more than an awareness of each other’s plight at the moment, but at least there’s that.

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