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Click hereMemories are everything.
The faceless nurses come and go.
His time is thread, a slender string,
and we now joined in simply being
with rasp and cough, with breathing slow.
Memories are everything.
La Boheme’s arias sing
pure poetry; bright voices glow.
His time is thread, a slender string
I want to fly away, to wing
to somewhere else, to safe. No.
Memories are everything.
He says my girl you’re giving
all you can. This is another way to grow.
His time is thread, a slender string
The vagaries that living bring
mix love and joy with pain and woe.
Memories are everything.
His time is thread, a slender string.
One of the best lines ever, for its sonority alone and more:
"His time is thread, a slender string"
I found myself holding my breath as I read. (That's a good thing, in case you're wondering. :D)
in this villanelle that reminds us how short the string often is. There is a delicate beauty in the villanelle that you enhance with the gentle, bittersweet language.
I wonder if some added punctuation on your quote:
"He says my girl you?re giving
all you can. This is another way to grow.
His time is thread, a slender string"
saying something like:
" He says, "My girl you're giving
all you can." This is another...
would draw it out a bit. Just a thought.
An excellent bittersweet poem.
jim : )
A villanelle, right? It reads so nice Ange... I really like this one! Thanks