Yesterday I Saw
Listen to Kay's poem ...
Yesterday I saw silver and glittery toy skeletons and skulls in windows, with the word SPOOKY, spelt out in flickering and green neon lights too haunted to be in a poem.
Unopened tickets to the theatre to see a Christmas pantomime on the stage one December evening too festive to be in a poem.
And memories from faded photographs in broken frames on the walls and shelves in empty rooms at home, and I did not stop to put them in a poem.
Grandma's old wooden gate creaked and would not close too broken and neglected to be in a poem.
Her neighbour's small black cat scurried across my path too quickly to write about in a poem.
And I saw crowds of children in my storybook pictures in a newly opened sweet shop with colourful sweet and chocolate wrappers in rows upon rows of jars and boxes too exciting and eye-catching for a poem.
A nearby supermarket's shelves were too cold and closed to add to a poem. The queues outside the supermarket doors are too long and twisting to write about in a poem.
I also saw tiny painted vases overflow with pennies from my grandma's purse, holding uncounted coins instead of flower stems in the kitchen on the windowsill too silent for a poem.
And I saw tangled balls of yarn, both colourful and creative, yet too uninspired and unfinished for poems.
And lastly, I saw tins and tins of opened paints in my Granddad's open garage, and paint lids are too much like planets and moons and star constellations and shapes for my poem.
Granddad's paints and projects remind me of my school science project, and today I will think about how I can conduct experiments all day.
And yesterday, I also saw a rainbow arc I will remember and one day draw
But yesterday, I did not write a poem.
Unopened tickets to the theatre to see a Christmas pantomime on the stage one December evening too festive to be in a poem.
And memories from faded photographs in broken frames on the walls and shelves in empty rooms at home, and I did not stop to put them in a poem.
Grandma's old wooden gate creaked and would not close too broken and neglected to be in a poem.
Her neighbour's small black cat scurried across my path too quickly to write about in a poem.
And I saw crowds of children in my storybook pictures in a newly opened sweet shop with colourful sweet and chocolate wrappers in rows upon rows of jars and boxes too exciting and eye-catching for a poem.
A nearby supermarket's shelves were too cold and closed to add to a poem. The queues outside the supermarket doors are too long and twisting to write about in a poem.
I also saw tiny painted vases overflow with pennies from my grandma's purse, holding uncounted coins instead of flower stems in the kitchen on the windowsill too silent for a poem.
And I saw tangled balls of yarn, both colourful and creative, yet too uninspired and unfinished for poems.
And lastly, I saw tins and tins of opened paints in my Granddad's open garage, and paint lids are too much like planets and moons and star constellations and shapes for my poem.
Granddad's paints and projects remind me of my school science project, and today I will think about how I can conduct experiments all day.
And yesterday, I also saw a rainbow arc I will remember and one day draw
But yesterday, I did not write a poem.
This poem is copyright (©) Kay Medway 2024
About the Writer
Kay Medway
Kay works full-time in libraries and enjoys both reading and writing poetry in all of her free time. She has had poetry featured in a positive news local community zine called The Happy Hood. Kay has also written poetry regarding her family history stories for 60 Miles by Road or Rail in her local community.
