* bedside

2 08 2011

I can reach out and touch Hemingway’s Moveable Feast

A moss-green notebook

And a flowery pen, a birthday gift from my little girl when I had swine flu


Two black hair ties overlap

A red ribbon, a piece of blue frayed fabric

From a skirt I want to transform


4 wrinkled, handwritten letters from America– lined paper, blue ink.

(With no envelopes)

Layered, willy-nilly, on top of the bright orange book, ‘Philosophy through Film’


A lamp, not mine, white, metal and practical

A whiteboard marker – blue, juicy with ink

A generic brand of ibuprofen – all gone but one


Oval brass photo frame, glass broken

Faded snap-shot of a small Jewish American boy with socks up to his knees

Ironed collar and 1960’s vest


Far left, a small portable stereo – the red light usually shining

I take the opportunity to pile papers on top of one of the speakers

Outdated.  Forgotten


Beneath it all a Rimu Hope Chest crafted by my uncle

Filled with gifts and treasures by my mother

Discovered by me after her funeral




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