Lost Day
Lost like the sins in confession
that I didn’t remember committing
like the clothes left in closets
whenever I moved
and all the high school boys
I said ‘no’ to
It looked so much
like the day before
that I didn’t notice
I had lost it
My gold wedding ring
that slipped off in the soil
while digging potatoes
without a shovel
The baby in the dream
left in the crib too long
because I lost track of time
And my peyote stitched key chain
from Santa Fe that I still
expect to find
I lost a day that won’t come back
like all the hats I checked
at the Surf Ballroom
and the dishes I washed
for my first job
at the Stonecrest nursing home
I struggle to remember
the four-leaf clover
found pressed between the pages
of a thrift shop book
and the wounded wood thrush
that sat stunned on my porch
like an understudy unsure of its part
It feels like neglect
to have lost such a day
like an envelope under the pillow
and the secrets you keep
in your sock drawer
that your grown children
will find when you die
I made up new sins
just to have something to say
I never left real babies in the crib
I listen for the wood thrush
and know the singer better
I keep my eye on the shine
of every new day
_______Colleen Redman / Poets and Storytellers United /dVerse Poets Pub
July 5th, 2020 12:44 am
Oh, you stirred some old memories in me too. (Different but similar/.) A long life fully lived does tend to pile them up! Without your words, I would not have thought again of that shocked and winded bird which, after an hour in a quiet, dark box and some ‘distant’ Reiki, recovered and flew away strongly; or flowers pressed in the pages of books I inherited from my Grandma; or the joy of discovering a four-leafed clover as a child….
July 5th, 2020 3:52 am
Every day hold the possibility of happiness and some sadness too, but we should embrace both, I think.
July 5th, 2020 6:30 am
I so identify with this poem, Colleen. I love the lines:
‘It looked so much
like the day before
that I didn’t notice
I had lost it’
and
‘like all the hats I checked
at the Surf Ballroom
and the dishes I washed
for my first job’;.
July 5th, 2020 8:48 am
Oh, we’re on the same wavelength today, CR. Fine work, this.
July 5th, 2020 10:53 am
I resonate strongly with this one Colleen especially; “It feels like neglect to have lost such a day like an envelope under the pillow and the secrets you keep in your sock drawer that your grown children will find when you die.”?
July 5th, 2020 11:16 am
I do so love your poetry, and this one is special. I especially like the line “I keep my eye on the shine of any new day”. A good habit that, keeping one’s eye on the shine … especially when the news tends to disseminate only gloom!
July 5th, 2020 11:27 am
i like the concept of your poem here. i like that you listed some sins that ended up untrue. i like your writing as well. great write!
July 5th, 2020 12:08 pm
Inspiring…I think I’ve been guilty of stuffing days in the sock drawer lately. 🙂
July 5th, 2020 1:11 pm
This is such a thought provoking poem. My sins were real and difficult to face …. thankfully I have had many decades to find a peace of sorts. A new day, a new dawn.
July 5th, 2020 4:59 pm
Bravo!
July 6th, 2020 10:37 am
I’ve felt like this far too often during lock down. A day just blinked away and I’m standing dumbfounded by it’s end. It started getting better eventually when I focused a little more on the things within my power to do, but I know a day can slip away from me again if I’m not watchful.
July 6th, 2020 5:16 pm
I like this poem a lot, Colleen. I sometimes wonder where my yellow Giants-As World Series sweatshirt ended up.
July 7th, 2020 1:37 pm
I’ve let so many things slip away during lock down. I am at a loss on how to move forward when forward is a question no one can answer. I work on art and write so I don’t sit and yearn for what is lost or struggle to recall what freedom feels like.
August 7th, 2020 10:50 am
Colleen: what an amazing write. I’m glad you shared it again. There is so much here….so many memories and things that are mundane at the moment that slip by.
Have you ever read the play or seen the play Our Town? In it, a person is given the opportunity to go back to see (not live) one day of their life. They are warned not to pick a momentous day….rather to pick a mundane day because even seeing that again will be so very emotional and meaningful.
August 7th, 2020 2:24 pm
So many things lost in the pages of time, stored in the attic of our brains to surface occasionally in sudden epiphany. I, too, look for the shine in every day. (Love that expression).
August 8th, 2020 12:52 pm
A wonderful poem. So revelatory in a manner that keep us hungry for more lost details. Beautifully done.