Considering Lost Lockets

*Trying my hand at prose poems*

Image result for Silver filigree locket



Consider me, at twelve years old: all elbows and knees and good intentions, knocking about in dirt and on swing-sets with one eye on the boys who will start to call me ugly in a few years.  Circled precisely around my neck on a silver chain hangs a heart whose hollow center holds love from people I’ve never met; great-grandparents long gone encapsulated in tiny oil paintings and left in the trust of a young girl.  These beautiful responsibilities are still too much for me and filigree love lays lost in sandcastles beyond adolescent fingertips.

Comments

  1. ChristineAugust 29, 2019 at 12:44 PM

    Hi KB! I really love the lyricism of this. To me, it reads more like a micro-essay than prose poetry, but I'm struggling to articulate what the difference is. I think it's that the first half starts out like a more traditional narrative (and I really love it as the opening to an essay), which sets up a bit of a different expectation. The poetry comes out more in the second half, especially that last sentence. Your word choices throughout the piece felt deliberate and well-thought-out. I'd love to see more of this sort of thing from you (and other writers on the grid!).

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  2. unfoldingfromthefog.wordpress.comAugust 29, 2019 at 7:14 PM

    This has so many lovely images in it. I wonder how it would be as an actual poem. It might be interesting to divide the lines and shorten the phrases. Just a thought. I enjoyed reading.

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