Monday, August 13, 2012


Image by Francesca Woodman


A past so long hidden
she considered it gone
Memories covered with layers of nacre
hiding grit beyond her reach.

The conch whispered of beaches walked
shells she must have collected.
Keepsakes gathered
in a basket in her bathroom.

She would stare at them stepping from the shower
Pick up each tulip shell and Scotch bonnet 
as the haze swirled around her
her fingers remembered what her mind could not.

Friends would speak of the time before
as if all it took were words
to re-install the past into her life
Give her days roots.

She gave up
accepted that life began the day after
In her struggle to get on with living
The past was just an accessory.

All the pretty shells
were but talismen of a youth
She did not remember
Did not need.

Clutching the conch
toting the basket she tripped
shattered all the pretty shells
over the patio.

Between the fragments
glimpses of a past
she did not want to remember
lay revealed.

J. Binford-Bell
August 2012


  1. This is indeed beautiful Jacqui. I was going to go with the conch but seeing you have, now won't! I know only too well that I should not read poems before I write!

  2. Beautifully written Jacqui... The memories in their layers of nacre was a particularly rich image for me.

  3. Your poem speaks volumes ... so many of us can relate.

  4. I liked this qite a bit- reminded me of our move away from where we had been for so many many years and I left all my shells behind wih friends. At some point one has to let go.

  5. Like this, I too went for the shell:)

  6. It is such a shame that she gave up. I was thinking that after going through all the various comments, from everyone that I might be able to spot one speck of why. But it is for not. Your piece is exceptional as well!

  7. Lovely, a moment when a decision is made to move on, beautifully captured.


I appreciate all kind comments on my art and poetry.