Time In A Bottle, written by Arlene Antoinette at Spillwords.com

Time In A Bottle

Time In A Bottle

written by: Arlene Antoinette


She smiles and for a moment I think
the joy on her face is for me.

I am known again. I am cherished again.
I am loved. In a tick of a heartbeat,

her smile is erased leaving in its wake
a blank stare. Empty eyes now a window

to a troubled soul. She’s lost to me.
If I had the power, I would hold time still.

Better yet, I would rewind time and restore
her strength, youth and memory. But time

does not stand still. Time can’t be stored
away or held securely in a bottle; it flows

out in one direction. Forward. Always, forward.
I remind her that I’m her fourth grandchild: the chubby

dimpled girl with knobby knees. She’s engaged
in my tale, but it doesn’t touch her heart. It doesn’t

ignite the flame of memory I’m hoping for. I am still
a nobody; an annoying visitor trying to force a smile

on the face of a woman who thinks that I am a stranger.
At the end of each visit, I leave more broken than the

last time. And she, the grandmother whom I love, continue
to stare at me with those vacant questioning eyes.

Latest posts by Arlene Antoinette (see all)