Something about Christmas probes Past's 'postcard heap'...
I like the postcards in our hearts we leaf through now and then
After sharper edges and hurts have blurred beneath Time’s pen
To leave behind a kind of surreal light-and-shadow-show
Of pictures that the past has framed and filled with Afterglow
From years soft-strewn beneath the moon like footprints in the snow
After the weariness of work and wish-wars yields its grasp
And tucks love’s tattered fragments behind Bygone’s soldered clasp
It gathers moment-measure into treasured bits of art
Like a postcard-collection that we carry in the heart
Of life’s recounted blessings that have lost their sting and smart
I do not want to stay too long in thought’s strange gallery
To gaze at portraits not quite like the present used to be
But now and then I like to run kind whispers softly through
A sheaf of pictures echo-spun in sun-gold, twilight-blue
To remind me that what I hold is postcard pigment too
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!