Journaling (OctPoWriMo)

Day 30

Prompt: Diary

Form: Free verse

A whiff of mothballs takes me
to the dusty ephemera
that surprisingly did not
crumble under the pressure of time
as I look into the potpourri of my teenage memories
a cavalcade of emotions rampage all over me
bemused and bewildered I watch
corpses of defunct passion tumble out in a spuddle
the ferocious angst that ignited my soul then
is now just an ember; flaring up occasionally
the social activist’s dogged haunting
has kept my conscience alive
scattered in between the cobwebs
of spidery scrawls of scribbles
are the posies of verses inscribed in calligraphy;
kenspeckle for their earnestness
the apparition of my younger idealistic self
looms large, accusation writ large on its countenance
my moral compass is intact; only I have traded idealism for pragmatism
a whiff of something burning brings me back to the now
as I rush to the kitchen
the glimpse from the bedroom window gladdens my heart
sitting in the balcony
my teenage girl pours her heart in her journal.

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