memory

This poem is in response to the One Shoot Sunday Image Prompt Challenge at http://www.onestoppoetry.com where this photo by Sean McCormick was featured. Do visit the site to read the interview and enjoy Sean's work.

Image Courtesy: Sean McCormick 
he had lived in the granary for 52 years
each year he fixed the leaks
varnished the wood
polished the floors
darned the plastic curtains
bred rabbits
kept two dogs
a vegetable patch at the back
flowers in the front

it was summer lightning
struck the rabbits and the dogs
the curtains dripped plastic shards
he woke up to the sun in his eyes
and a smoking headboard
he fixed the roof
he painted the house blue
covered naked bulbs with red cellophane
let weeds grow and painted them pink

he lay himself down
the cool breeze whispered
through open windows and doors
the weeds outside rustled
he dreamed of a blue globe that
glinted with light caught in streaks
and within the dome he saw his blue home
and within the walls he waltzed
under a red light with a woman

the radio was playing
a scratchy old tune
she was old she was pretty
she looked into his face with a smile
he felt the fragile small of her back
the cool smooth fingers clasped  within his
he smiled and raised his eyes to hers
he wasn't there
she was dancing alone
© 2011 Padmavani Karkera

Comments

  1. wow. what an evocative write...esp the close...and to lose so much yet paint it all bright and color....nice.

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  2. Surprised me at the end. Enjoyed your poem and how you set up the twist at the end. Very nicely done!

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  3. Aw, so sad! Nice build to the ending with it's sudden ghost-story twist. Great take on the prompt!

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  4. I had never thought to paint weeds!

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  5. Oh wow!! That took a sudden twist!! Loved it!!
    He vanished in his own dream... or was it even his in the first place!?! Wheeeww!!
    Really enjoyed your fascinating take on this prompt..

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  6. What are you guys, the goodwill angels??? You rock my day! Thank you Brian, Dustus, Ami, Fireblossom, Kavitha :)

    Fireblossom, yes, you take a can of spray paint and you go crazy on the weeds :) I would feel too bad to do it, but yeah if they are naturally dead and dried plants and you are on a psychedelic high from staring at this image trying to string words:) Why not?:)

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  7. Lovely and interesting, per usual, Padmavani-- hopefully no psychedelic highs needed...xj

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  8. LOL Jeanne, no way! And thank you :)

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  9. wonderfully weaved tale; a beautifully painted poem.

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  10. hello Padmavani; I'm pleased that you left a link on 1513fusion for me to follow. I did enjoy this poem - it is a a sort of short story, and it might be stretched to 1500 words - there are so many points of interest.

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