I worry that I might forget,
Or make them disappear;
Thoughts of loved ones, now passed away,
A fog, at times unclear.
Yet sometimes sun will pierce that fog,
Make sharp those moments dear;
A photograph, a time preserved,
Of joy and of good cheer.
A face perhaps, or even voice,
Still vivid with each year;
And smell of course: their aftershave,
Or their favourite beer.
These memories I hold too close,
Of losing them I fear;
That’s not how memories work though,
Important? They’ll be near.
The final piece of my own poetry as I catch up with Writing 201 has the theme fog, the form elegy and the device metaphor.
Coming on the back of the direction I went down with my previous piece, means similar moods for my two pieces of poetry today. And that piece, written in a more standard way, could fit the elegy form here. A consequence of deliberately avoiding looking at the prompts for the assignments I wasn’t actively working on at the time. If I’d looked ahead I might have posted things in a different order.
That said, I’m fairly happy with this. It could apply to memories of any loved one, although at its heart it’s about my late father. I considered freeform verse for this (and if I revisit it like the others I’ll probably use that, and make the first lines more obviously longer), since all but the haiku so far have incorporated rhyme, but I like the repeated rhyme that evolved as I was writing it. It reminds me of a ship or lighthouse bell guiding others through a fog, which I think fits.