Marking Time
A short collection of poems inspired on Jo Sexton's (@saltwater and Sage) August prompts. Part 1.
I am pleased to announce that Myths & Monsters, a short story collection, is now available for pre-purchase on Amazon as an ebook, as well as immediately available as a print edition.
Now, on to the poetry collection…
Based on the prompt, ‘This is how July left me.’
Watches
This is how July left me,
stinging from a past that evaporated in the present.
There is no going back now,
the world has fractured,
where there was flat ground,
now there are chasms.
Even with watches,
we will all be late one day,
the majority of us gone,
silent ghosts standing at shoulders unseen
cursed to watch the world move on without us.
Mortality’s teeth are biting at my flesh,
I feel them gnawing,
the shadow in the future getting closer,
a coffin I will be bound in one day.
© Emma Steel
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Based on the prompt, 'I carry August with me.' Sleepy and Slow The dog days of summer, heavy with humidity are burned into me. I carry the weight with me, feet dragging as the heat drains me. I want the coolness of fall, the glittering reds and golds, full in their intensity, and the world is with me, with its wilted leaves. The river in its bed, sleepy and slow no longer babbles, and we both long to meet the coolness of the sea. ©️ Emma Steel
Based on the prompt, 'I bloom in late summer.' Split The trees have started to shed their cloaks, crisp leaves, a patchwork quilt on the lawn in the golden sunlight. I can feel myself open, the protective sheath that held back the summer heat, split. I am a butterfly emerging, wings unfurling to find their colors, burnished copper and gold as they dry. When tomorrow comes, I will take flight, my wings fluttering as falling petals. © Emma Steel
Based on the prompt, 'Warm winds and whispered change.' In the Darkness Alone I am the zephyr that moves the sand. I am the sun that scorches the ground. I am the change bringer, never standing still in any one place, evolving here, growing there, sculpting the world around me. I was here when the first sun started to burn, and will be here when the last fades to nothing, marking time in the darkness alone. Where will you be when my warm winds and whispered change touch you? © Emma Steel
Based on the prompt, 'The beginning of goodbye.' Six Feet That silence that lingers when we are together, the words that have gone unsaid, thin, is the flag waved in surrender. How do two people drift apart while still sat on the same couch, the distance between us greater than six feet of leather and wood? When I greet you at the end of the day, weary from a day’s work, your eyes don’t match your smile, and I know they are already saying ‘goodbye’. © Emma Steel
Based on the prompt, 'I am learning to linger.' Wound Tight The chair claims to be a friend, beckoning for me to sit, rest a while. Muscles are screaming to go, restless, eager to leave, the urgency builds. I want to run, hide from the world, but the weight of expectation pins me to the ground, feet frozen. My heart races, limbs wound tight and ready to bolt, but I must learn to linger, to claim peace as my own. So, I will nestle into the chair, the soft seat enveloping me, accept the offered rest, and close my eyes to swim in it. © Emma Steel Don’t forget you can support my writing with a poetry collection.
"Even with watches,
we will all be late one day,
the majority of us gone,
silent ghosts standing at shoulders unseen
cursed to watch the world move on without us."
Wow. Fantastic writing! Thanks for doing my prompts justice.