A Nice Neat Layer

I shake my life out onto a thin tray
and lift the edges and tap gently
so that the contents disperse
into a nice neat layer of me

there among the ingredients
I see things I have forgotten
things that must have slipped
right to the bottom of the mix

it really does pay occasionally
to empty your life out like that
so you can see all of the pieces
you'd been so sure were missing


© Susannah Bec 2011.

Age Comes

Age comes
and with silver paintbrush
it frosts my hair, dulls my vision
and steals the elasticity from my skin
like a thief in the night

I feel the disintegration

like salt falling

white grains

bouncing

from the polished surface

of my life

It brings gifts they say
and I await them with eager and open arms
cynicism silenced by the Pollyanna of me

And meanwhile I wipe up the spills
and remind myself to stop holding my breath
as I watch age creeping across my face like a vine

.
© Susannah Bec 2011

A Page Turned . . .

The orange day slips back into the purple night
and all is as it was before

but not me

The passing of the hours, the changing hues
have altered something

I have changed

Though all appears to be the same
when viewed from the surface

It is not

.
© Susannah Bec 2011

As Day Turns To Night . . .

Darkness wraps around me like a cloak
as I sit before my open window
and watch the day leave

Silhouetted against the twilight
my guardian trees dance
fluid in the fading light

Trunks meander into branches
that twist and turn upward
toward the waiting moon

Until finally blackness reigns
and I am left to close the window
and turn on the light

.
© Susannah Bec 2011