Fireplace shadows

They have a name for me . . . . widower
Alone from all that was . . . . I exist
I have discarded dreams and been healed from hope
As I watch fireplace shadows dance on the walls
I locked the door to what was our home
And went to live in another land
Believing that novelty would be distraction
And perhaps some part of me still lived

I learned a second language and bought another home
Old photos locked away in drawers lest they incite memories
I felt too guilty to remove my ring
And too stubborn to remember “till death do us part”
I have abandoned the very need to feel
By recognizing its power and dangers
And I now reside in darkness where memories dance
Like the fireplace shadows moving across the walls

Reviews

[Baby Ricochet]

Bittersweet man. Good dark feel. Well penned

[Breathetheair]

Yes. I can appreciate the need to have both worlds. The holding on...and the letting go. Often when we love and grieve there are those special things we hide away fearing the very sight of them will take us away into a pool of memory where we are unsure we are able to tread the waters therein... :) Beautiful Beautiful Poem.

[Ravyne Hawke]

No matter how far we go, how different we make our lives from before, some memories can never be locked away from us. We will remember small details at the oddest of moments, like shadows of fire flickering in a fireplace. You write of this loneliness with such passion and sadness.