Siertes
Well-known member
She sought comfort in a feather-dusted haven
Dust unsettled and unseen made the world seem renewed
A layer of ambiguous particles spoke of the past
Her father, scratching at his beard as he read the paper
Her mother, finishing the laundry and tending to the lint trap
Her little brother, careless and tracking remnants of a day's play inside
Swiftly, with ease and without care, she erased the static recordings
This place, removed of memory, became hers
How would she prepare the grounds for new layers to tell their story?
Upon the mantle of the fireplace, she placed a picture
Her father, strong and caring, held a tiny girl on his shoulders
Several fragments in the air, that whispered of a time lost, found a new home
Next to the first, another picture was put in place
Her mother, a gentle smile and floral dress, an overwhelming love was visible in her eyes
Seeking to return to their origin, more objects landed, hoping their stories still had a voice
Finally, after the gentle and loving that followed the strong and caring, one more picture
Her little brother, full of joy and excitement, blew out the candles of a birthday cake
A few more airborne specs, echoing of children's laughter, found rest upon familiarity
She gazed on the new setting, of the three pictures that now adorned her space
As the dust floated and fell on the frames
As one memory tried desperately to touch another
Something deeper stirred within her
A new form for the past to clothe itself in
She wept
Tears fled from her eyes, leaping gracefully to the floor below
As they fell, tears that reflected a longing for the past neighbored the transient relics of it
Reflections of a missed father, mother, and little brother
Reflections that would not float like dust, nor remain in any way to layer her world
For this embodiment of her memories has one path
They will reflect what they may and fall where they may
But where they lay, they will not be seen
Never to rise again
As that is the role of dust
To remind her of the old that seeks to make itself known again
As for the role of tears
Each one is new, a reminder that she has not forgotten
That what may be unsettled and unseen shall still remain
Without layers and without form, in this place of hers
Dust unsettled and unseen made the world seem renewed
A layer of ambiguous particles spoke of the past
Her father, scratching at his beard as he read the paper
Her mother, finishing the laundry and tending to the lint trap
Her little brother, careless and tracking remnants of a day's play inside
Swiftly, with ease and without care, she erased the static recordings
This place, removed of memory, became hers
How would she prepare the grounds for new layers to tell their story?
Upon the mantle of the fireplace, she placed a picture
Her father, strong and caring, held a tiny girl on his shoulders
Several fragments in the air, that whispered of a time lost, found a new home
Next to the first, another picture was put in place
Her mother, a gentle smile and floral dress, an overwhelming love was visible in her eyes
Seeking to return to their origin, more objects landed, hoping their stories still had a voice
Finally, after the gentle and loving that followed the strong and caring, one more picture
Her little brother, full of joy and excitement, blew out the candles of a birthday cake
A few more airborne specs, echoing of children's laughter, found rest upon familiarity
She gazed on the new setting, of the three pictures that now adorned her space
As the dust floated and fell on the frames
As one memory tried desperately to touch another
Something deeper stirred within her
A new form for the past to clothe itself in
She wept
Tears fled from her eyes, leaping gracefully to the floor below
As they fell, tears that reflected a longing for the past neighbored the transient relics of it
Reflections of a missed father, mother, and little brother
Reflections that would not float like dust, nor remain in any way to layer her world
For this embodiment of her memories has one path
They will reflect what they may and fall where they may
But where they lay, they will not be seen
Never to rise again
As that is the role of dust
To remind her of the old that seeks to make itself known again
As for the role of tears
Each one is new, a reminder that she has not forgotten
That what may be unsettled and unseen shall still remain
Without layers and without form, in this place of hers
