Too Much of a Good Thing
We got what we asked for
Unscheduled lives
Day after day
No place like home
where the introverts
suffer their isolation
Retirees revisit
and the ailing hole up
To the tick of a clock
and the slant of light
where artists paint
their hanging hats
while a homebody’s
plans gather dust
and the gold of silence
yellows like the pages
in a celebrated memoir
of someone else’s life
___________Colleen Redman / Poets and Storytellers United
October 4th, 2020 12:29 am
Hmmm, yes, ‘be careful what you wish for’. But perhaps, if it leads to poems as beautifully worded as this….
October 4th, 2020 2:04 am
Life still has to move on and we too.
October 4th, 2020 3:24 am
I am becoming inured to the current way of life, Colleen. It gives me an excuse to spend more time writing and reading. You’ve expressed the feelings of many of us in this poem and yes, it probably will become too much of a good thing and ‘plans gather dust’. I do hope poems and stories don’t become ‘a celebrated memoir / of someone else’s life’.
October 4th, 2020 5:04 am
Indeed too much of a good thing Love the poem and absolutely love “the gold of silence yellows like the pages”
October 4th, 2020 5:20 am
I wonder how long it will be before we feel safe again not knowing what other effects of the Covid crisis are still likely. I too am comfortable to be a recluse avoiding crowds in public gatherings biding my time.
October 4th, 2020 8:23 am
“…and the slant of light
where artists paint
their hanging hats…”
And lovely hats they are, wonderfully presented in ways that the introverts who thrive on their introversion can admire them, and have the time and motivation to truly laud the artist(s).
Nice work, CR.
October 4th, 2020 9:39 am
This…was a difficult one. In a place where people are acting (not everyone, but many) as if this isn’t happening, isn’t real, the isolation has a quality of displacement that this poem captured, much to my discomfort.
October 4th, 2020 7:41 pm
Pandemic life is hard, but isn’t life in general?
October 4th, 2020 8:11 pm
“where the introverts
suffer their isolation”
Yes, I, an introvert, long ago grew tired of this situation.
October 5th, 2020 5:15 am
this is a lovely poem, and i love the imagery.
you write very well about the ordinary and mundane. 🙂
October 5th, 2020 7:36 am
Introvert that I am, I’m really missing all the festivals and gatherings that normally happen in the summer and fall. It looks like it’s going to be a long winter too.
October 5th, 2020 10:37 am
the gold of silence
yellows like the pages
in a celebrated memoir
of someone else’s life – classic lines!
October 5th, 2020 12:12 pm
Ah, you have said it so beautifully…a mirror to many…!
October 5th, 2020 7:48 pm
There are good things resulting from quarantine…families drawing closer and getting reacquainted, a slowing of hurried pace, more time for hobbies and such, but we’re left with a new appreciation for human contact, and lunch with friends becomes a fond memory!