Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Collector

Never saw myself as a collector
of anything that is without purpose,
anything that sits around and gathers
dust. I have the propensity to go
overboard on most things so I never
allowed myself a chance at this.

Now I find myself a collector of ladybugs
from gaudy to fragile works of art.
This bug has become my talisman.
I feel the need, feel a compulsion,
for they allow me that pinpoint of light
to illuminate the past.
My son’s death leaves me a collector.


Victoria said...

Interesting example of how we add to ourselves out of our deepest losses.

Mary said...

I now realize that many things I have collected are things that gather dust! LOL.

I appreciate and understand the last few lines of your poem - a good reason to collect.

Diane T said...

Ah, Judy, you've got fabulous plates as well. I understand the lady bug memories. Brian was sitting in heaven when that happened.

Judy Roney said...

THATS what I should have written about. My plates, Diane! :) They give me great joy and comfort. I will have to do another poem! Where were you when this prompt came up, I could have used your reminder. LOL Love to you.

Willow said...

Beautiful, poignant poem, Judy, "they allow me that pinpoint of light to illuminate the past" is so beautifully put, then the gasp of the last line.