The parts of methat did not survivemy childhoodinclude:
a ballerinaan artistand a veterinarian.
I look for themin my writing,in my solitude,in my children,
dancingdrawingor animal watching
Oh, this is so true. I wonder if any bits survived – after all, they did appear here. May you find all of the missing pieces – may we all. Happy New Year, friend. xo
Lovely. Wonderful places to look for those pieces. And I'm agreeing with Amy.
Hmm…something for us to think about, Kimberley! Amy may be on to something 🙂
I like how you find bits of your past in the present. Now I'm wondering what missing bits I might find if I look.
Your poem gives me hope, Kimberley, for the bits I feel I've lost, too. We all need hope. Thank you. =)
The magic of poetry is seeing something mundane in a new way. I've never thought about those things I left behind in childhood quite like this, a potential inside myself and my children. We have all lost those things. For me, I was an actress as a child. We would practice and perform plays for the neighborhood.
So many layers to this poem – just lovely. And yes, writing does allow us to rediscover and resurrect pieces of ourselves, which are still there, just out of sight.
I love this idea!
Like several others, I love the idea of this. Magical. I have been thinking a lot recently about things I used to love and have given up- mostly horses and art- and how I might go back to them. Hmmm.
For me, it was architecture and tree-climbing.
Your poem is very timely for me, since I've been thinking a lot lately about all the stuff we're pieced together with. They're never really gone though are they? They've just gone through a metamorphosis.
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