Danseuse ajustant sa bretelle, 1895-96, Edgar Degas

Dancing in the shadow, arching for the light
fickle  remembrances tease my mind
are they real or are  they but dreams
after all the years, who can tell?
Many times I tried to capture
those bygone moments and place
but they escape
like ghosts fading into the haze
of my memory’s landscape
If only I can hold
some proof of my so-called life –
a souvenir or a photograph
to dispel my doubts –
before I, too, am swallowed
by the dark.

This is a response to Magpie Tales’ above picture prompt. Kindly click on the photos to get to the lovely responses.  I am also joing DVERSE POETS” PUBS Open Link Night Party tonight.  Do join the party.  The Pub is a fun place to be.   Thank you. ♥



  1. Imelda this poem is a strong piece on the importance we attach to the ephemera of ourt lives, the bric-a-brac of remembering that tricks our minds into thinking how things were. /Very nice. >KB

  2. For as long as we can, we try to hold on to memories that we treasure. Sometimes we’re lucky and it last, while others fade but we’re still thankful that we were blessed to have them. So much has faded in the recent Philippines storm. I will sure have a have a hard time recognizing Capiz after it lost so much. Have a blessed day.

  3. Sometimes our memories are enough but, these two lines really jumped out..as we struggle for some sort of tangible proof of our journey.

    If only I can hold
    some proof of my so-called life –

  4. Oh yes, it is good to find a way to keep those bygone moments before one is swallowed by the dark. (I like that imagery.) Photographs are especially good triggers for those old memories, for sure.

  5. Its a curious thing for such beautiful women to have to sacrifice their fleshy form for age and wisdom. Our better selves call this maturity. But…our hearts never stop yearning for proof of the past.

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