pages (poem)

‘Young was the day’ photographed by Julia Hetta

By Alexandra Harrison

Hair once shining and moving
Like golden water
Now crisp, silver,
Pushed back behind,
And age dappled neck
A keepsake of sorts
Holding a glittering youth.

Page one.

Eyes, pale glass
Ice bergs and frothing waves,
Cascading down a wrinkled face
The world seems darker now
And your shoulders are bare
(he used to wrap his arms around them)
And say, ‘I love you’

Page two.

Pupils swelling
In an empty-full darkness
Calling like birds
In the garden
That you tend with,
Sore eyes and ripping knees
The earth reminds you of suffocation
A cemetery.

Page three.

Family trees unfurl,
Long forgotten names
Padded down with earth
Leaves hanging on branches,
Ligaments wrapping around spines
Backs cracking
Death beds chocking, with the smell of
Sickness and decay.

Page four.

Small perfect memories,
Drenched in a heart-wrenching longing
That makes hair whiter
Skin paler
Hands slimmer
Dappled with age
You swallow the medicine
And turn the last page.


Feedback is greatly appreciated. Decided to leave this one to interpretation, because the concept is fairly basic and obvious, but there’s still stuff to analyze if you want to πŸ™‚


Thank you so much for reading,





31 thoughts on “pages (poem)

  1. That is soo good! I love the page references to the stages and when I read it out aloud, it sounds amazing! I feel like reading it aloud to someone now πŸ˜€

    Liked by 1 person

  2. How HOW do you write so beautifully. This is one of my favorites so far (all of them are my favorite, come on). I love the idea of this poem and it could be interpreted in many ways .

    Liked by 1 person

    1. How HOW can you be so lovely?! Seriously thank you so much, you literal angel. Words can not describe (the irony) how much this actually means to me. People reading and talking about my work, oh my, it’s INSANE!

      Liked by 1 person

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