We had a great day antiquing in Waynesville Ohio, just before Christmas. We found all sorts of treasures, old postcards, an apron for Rachel from the 50's, and a bunch of old stuff. I could tell she was intrigued by the antique jewelery, especially the rings, one of which she almost bought. She was moved by the pre-owned objects, curiously touching each one that caught her eye. She seemed to have a connection to them.....later that night I received an email from her, with a poem she wrote attached.
Graciously she is letting me post it here. The words in the collage are from her poem, the piece is mounted on a masonite board with the poem affixed.
"She says keep the pennies because in her mind they don't matter
And if they don't matter neither do the seconds that tick by
Inside the hoarder antique shop a hundred silver baby spoons fed a hundred mouths or more
It's like saying they don't matter
The rings, dead hands lifted softly and removed the stones that lasted year after year
And now we peer at them through glass like they don't matter,
Or, perhaps they can matter to us if they're ours
Like new again
Blue stones like cloudy cataracts
Purple stones like blue veins through the looking glass
yellow chains like sunshine eyes, pins to a hat
Earrings like honey, bleed like tree sap
All the books
all the postcards
thoughts that don't matter
That tick like the seconds on broken clocks that don't matter
that spend like the pennies glued to a register cup that don't matter
All collected, and passed by in a window shop."
This is just one of the hundreds of Poems she has written
Poetry copyright Brianne Prince
Painting copyright Linda McCoy
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