And when the time comes,
we shall depart these
torn memories:
the candle flickered on our nightstand,
his scarlet cheeks.
©Rob Goldstein 2019
And when the time comes,
we shall depart these
torn memories:
the candle flickered on our nightstand,
his scarlet cheeks.
©Rob Goldstein 2019
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So interesting… I read it as a lover leaving. These interpretations reveal ourselves. Time. Beautiful.
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That’s another interesting take on this poem and I see how the words lend themselves this interpretation. I learn about my work from the comments people leave. Thank you for stopping by and leaving a comment.
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This is beautiful, Rob. I hope I can face death with grace when the time comes ❤️
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Thank you Jacquie. You’re the second person to see this as a poem about death. The poem is made of images that flashed through my mind one day. I wrote them down, and kept them around and decided they were a poem. I don’t know what they mean but that’s what I love about poetry, the reader gives a poem meaning and finishes the poem.
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A personal journey of sorts 😊
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I suppose. I think all of the arts are like that. Each person who reads one of your novels brings the characters to life in new ways…Or maybe my pain meds have kicked in. 🙂
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This is powerful, Rob.
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Thank you, Robbie. I appreciate your support.
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Great lines, Rob. When my sister passed away within 4 days of hospitalization, we were so sad and shocked with those flickering flames. For her, her suffering was ceased in an instance.
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I hear that we have a death instinct and that when the time comes we accept it. I hope that’s true.
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She was in coma but could hear us. We told her the whole family was there to see her. (We happened to be in Hong Kong for my nephew’s wedding). Her face was relaxed and slipped away.
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That’s good to know, Miriam. That must have been comforting to you, as well.
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Yes, I hope so too….and beautiful artwork with your poem.
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Thank you, Paula. You’ve been producing some extraordinary images.
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Always memories
Still flickering
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Yes Ivor. Always. Thanks you. 🙂
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