I’ve kept all the pieces of you that I could find.
Stored them safely,
wrapped away
in a box somewhere hidden and warm,
until I can remember how the puzzle goes
and slot you back into yourself,
a little more fragile perhaps
but whole again.
Poetry & Prose by Carol J Forrester
I’ve kept all the pieces of you that I could find.
Stored them safely,
wrapped away
in a box somewhere hidden and warm,
until I can remember how the puzzle goes
and slot you back into yourself,
a little more fragile perhaps
but whole again.
Carol J Forrester is a writer and a history geek. Her debut collection 'It's All In The Blood' came out November 2019. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University, enjoys judo at least twice a week, and tries to attend poetry events around the Midlands when she can. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry. Her poems ‘Sunsets’ and ‘Clear Out‘ were featured on Eyes Plus Words, and two of her poems were included in the DVerse Poets Pub Publication ‘Chiaroscuro’ which is available for purchase on amazon.Her poem ‘Until The Light Gets In‘ was accepted and published at The Drabble and her poem ‘Newborn’ was published by Ink Sweat & Tears. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and has hosted a number of guest bloggers on her site Writing and Works. View all posts by Carol J Forrester
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I think this is very wise… sometimes we just have to put it all together at the right time.
Interesting piece, Carol. It starts off hopeful and ends up existential. Is the subject deceased or imagined or part of a metaphor; strong poetics regardless.
Thank you Glenn. Perhaps they are none of the above at all.
I love this, Carol.
I like this one. People as broken puzzles.
Thank you Jane.
🙂
I like how the memories are kept hidden but warm–not forgotten.
We are all pieces put together… and I love this😊
Thank you Vivian. We are indeed.
😊
There is deep wisdom in this!
Thank you.
This one leaves me feeling a bit melancholy. Sad for the one whose pieces have scattered, and also sad for the one who feels responsible for fitting the pieces back together.
Thank you for the comment Maggie. I think that was what I was sort of going for. It could be taken purely as someone dealing with the grief that follows someone passing or perhaps someone who has just lost control of their life. In both cases it can be grueling.
wow – this is a double-edged sword of a poem …
tight, compact and yet so telling for the emotions – and who is grieving and mourning? and what I most appreciate about this “puzzle” (in 44 no less) – are the questions raised –
do we have the “right” to put someone back together again? whose best interests are we serving etc. and this, at least for me, is what I mean by double-edged sword –
this is a wonderful poem, and I’m just enjoying it.
You’re the only one to mention that in the comments and it did get me thinking. You’re right, some times the best thing is just to let go. We can hold on too much sometimes.
well, sometimes our best intentions are the last thing needed, either for the person, or for ourselves, even if it’s an honest, heartfelt wish. Such as it is, such as human nature can be. And who’s to say what is “right/wrong” – it’s just how things happen sometimes.
Heart-breaking.
This is incredibly evocative. Sometimes it takes time to put all the pieces together.. 💜
Indeed it does. Thank you for your comment.
we are left puzzling as to who is being put back together and that adds even more of a conundrum – lovely lightly touched write
Thank you Laura. I didn’t want to make it too specific as I felt it could apply to any loved one.
Oh…..this is truly lovely. Would that we could take the pieces we have of a loved one…old photos, memories, gifts, mementoes, and slot them back together again, if only for a day. 🙂 How I would love to see my brother again. I liked this post very much.
Thank you Lillian, and my condolences about your brother. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a sibling. Sometimes I wonder if we’d even get to say the things we wanted to if given a chance or if we’d just want to hold them.
Beautiful and haunting at the same time. A well written quadrille.
oh, I do love this!
I like this outer layer of a much bigger story, so gently expressed.
A softer poem of what tears underneath. The result would certainly be more fragile. Beautiful, Carol.