Sunday, February 19, 2012

The Dead Road

Photo by Mary Ann Potter

The road was abandoned
By the county years ago,
Used now only by firefighters
Battling the occasional wildfire.
Two miles down that road,
Nestled behind a decaying farmhouse
In a shadowy grove where sunlight seeps
Randomly through the pines,
We kindled our own inferno,
Two restless souls
Lost in the flames of first love
Unaware our fire
Was destined to be extinguished.

Even now as I pass
That overgrown turn-off,
Nostalgia straps in
For a detour to the past,
The smudgy edges of memory
Receding just enough
To show my scorched heart,
The gaping sores of unhealed regret.
I find it just a bit bizarre
That lingering thoughts of him
Can still put me off-balance,
But I know the ghosts of lost love
Continue to whistle through the aging pines.


Mimi Foxmorton said...

The ghosts are always on the path......and that's a beautiful thing.......


Collage Pirate

Marianne said...

Loved these images: "Nostalgia straps in for a detour to the past," and
"The smudgy edges of memory." Memories of first love can be so sweet ...

margo said...

Your poem reminds me of one of my favourite sonnets by one of my favourite poets, Edna St, Vincent Millay: "Time Does Not Bring Relief".

Great image of nostalgia strapping in for the ride.


brenda w said...

Sensuous imagery underscores the hideaway of first love. This is beautiful, Mary. Love doesn't die, it shifts in us somehow. You captured one of the "somehows." I read this piece three times. It's quite lovely, and I will revisit it.

Mary Ann Potter said...

Your metaphor of fire here is simply wonderful!!! Places change, people change, and yet those little memory ghosts remain -scorched heart, smudges --- so memorable here! I'm honored to read such a beautiful response to my photo!

cathy said...

Simply love it, oh the pains of a first love.

Anonymous said...

i was just at a scene like this a few months ago, you describe it perfectly.

Jules said...

Surely we had different first loves...yet you write so clearly about mine... Nice write.

Brian Miller said...

those thoughts seem to follow us along those roads at times...popping out of the bushes when we least expect them...smiles.

Anonymous said...

"But I know the ghosts of lost love
Continue to whistle through the aging pines." - amazing lines.

Strong imagery throughout and a wonderful write.

Great work here.

Elizabeth Young said...

I love the correlation between the overgrown house and the overgrown heart and the honesty which bravely admits it can still be taken off guard quickly. This poem is strong and beautiful, I enjoyed it immensely!

Mary said...

Ah, probably a lot of us had those roads, most of them dead ends! In my ways than one. LOL.

Heaven said...

Very nice...some roads are just full of memories and regrets ~

Great to see you at D'verse ~

Magical Mystical Teacher said...

Even years after the event, I can still feel the heat...

Whirling Haiku

hedgewitch said...

Nice parallels between the external and internal fires, and the haunting feel you get from a burned over stretch of forest is in this poem.

Bianca said...

I know what it feels like to have the bad memories with the good memories. But the bad ones always stick out. Lovely write :)

Margaret said...

Oh, those last four lines. Don't we all have memories like that... but truth be told, memories are sweeter usually than what the reality would be if we hadn't "moved on". :) Nice to look back and feel a bit of "nostalgia" now and again, though...

lovely poem.

ayala said...

Lovely poem.... the last lines are simply great !