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I Was Seven

Gathering the years on a string of pearls

By Cathy holmesPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 months ago 2 min read
Photo by Susan Wilkinson on Unsplash

Yesterday I was seven.

Life was all about dancing in the sunshine and

rainy days were just excuses to splash around in puddles and sing songs of joy and nursery rhyme.

Hours were measured by the distance between supper and bedtime or the opening credits to the Bugs Bunny Roadrunner show.

Who knew what heights we’d hit, indeed.

Nobody knew, and nobody cared because nothing mattered but dancing in sunshine and splashing in puddles.

The world was my oyster, and it was filled with pearls.

This morning I was thirty-five.

Rarely seeing the sunshine as most of my days were spent

chained to a desk I didn’t own, in a box built to feed the monster of corporate greed.

Just another vermin scurrying through the rat race essential to the survival of my body,

and near guaranteeing the destruction of my soul.

Weeks were measured by those two glorious days when the alarm didn’t sound at six a.m.

Joyous time spent away from all those other days, jammed into that little box,

suffocating in a tight business suit and strangling on my collected string of pearls.

This afternoon I’m seventy.

Chronology may take issue with that statement, but I’ll be damned if biology isn't going to disagree.

Not today, at least.

Not today, when minutes are measured in the time it takes the pain killer to kick in.

And for this god forsaken headache to finally dissipate, and for my stupid arthritic knees give me some relief,

so I can dig out that old jewelry box and polish up that collected string of pearls.

My string of pearls, one for each year.

Tonight I‘ll be ninety.

Laying in my bed, my mind running marathons while my body struggles to find enough energy to get up and go to the bathroom.

Time will once again be measured in hours - the hours it takes to shut down the competing thoughts in my head, end the race, and finally fall asleep.

Thoughts of all the things that could have been.

Thoughts of all the things I wish were different.

And thoughts of how the heck I collected such a long string of pearls when,

when just yesterday

I was seven.

performance poetrysurreal poetry

About the Creator

Cathy holmes

Canadian family girl with a recently discovered love for writing. Other loves include animals and sports.

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Comments (49)

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  • Cindy Calderabout a year ago

    What a poignant and emphatic poem you've woven on the essence of life. From the cradle to the grave....

  • Lynn Jordan2 years ago

    A grim reminder of the passage of time and how "adulting' robs us of so much. Thank for capturing that so vividly!

  • StoryholicFinds2 years ago

    love it! ❤️

  • S. A. Crawford2 years ago

    This is so heartfelt and nuanced; the feeling of time slipping by is one I'm just starting to become familiar with and it's unnerving to say the least. This is beautiful poem, Cathy, well done!

  • Mika Oka2 years ago

    Love this

  • you deserve to join the Vocal Awards https://tinyurl.com/3cjr6788

  • Sarah Massey2 years ago

    So glad I stumbled upon your profile after Alien in my Knee. Well done. I'm about to do a Cathy Holms reading marathon.

  • Mackenzie Davis2 years ago

    Ohhh my word. Poignant and touching. So creative, as well. This metaphor of the pearls is sublime, masterful, and just beautifully executed, Cathy. Very well done. It's in my head now; i'll never forget this poem.

  • Poppy 2 years ago

    This is so powerful and emotional. Great read Cathy

  • Oh I know how you feel. Just yesterday I was Seven (powerful) no matter how old I get I still feel seven inside

  • I find this incredibly moving!

  • Beautiful chronology of life. Must say that I love those early year memories that somehow are so vibrant that they can carry us through a lifetime. I love the pearls image. Lovely work. Thanks

  • Lamar Wiggins2 years ago

    Excellent poem that also serves as a life lesson. Fantastic! 💖

  • C. H. Richard2 years ago

    Splashing in puddles we were just there right? I remember the rain in childhood so vividly too. So beautiful and poignant as life just keeps moving. Well done ❤️

  • Gina C.2 years ago

    This is breathtaking, thought-provoking, and so, so meaningful, my friend! I really loved the "string of pearls" metaphor. 🥹❤️ I've been on a bit of a break from Vocal but I will be coming back to catch up on more of your amazing work! ☺️❤️

  • Thank you, Bro. Now pick yourself up. 🤣

  • Gerald Holmes2 years ago

    Ok, this just knocked me off my chair. This is a piece of art! So very well done.

  • Test2 years ago

    Cathy, this is, bar none, the best poem I have read from you. I just cannot find the words to describe the many emotions I went through while reading. And the last line is SO powerful!

  • ThatWriterWoman2 years ago

    Sad but beautifully written, nice!!

  • L.C. Schäfer2 years ago

    How does this one not have Top Story already?

  • Caroline Jane2 years ago

    What a wonderful metaphor... a string of pearls. Fabulous. They mean so much I'm so many different guises and perspectives. Written with such soul. Love it.

  • A lovely journey through time with you Cathy, wonderful words

  • The Dani Writer2 years ago

    Damn Cathy! Hoooooo chile! That gon' be read over and over again. FIRE TRUTH! Eloquently done.

  • Heather Hubler2 years ago

    I felt that on such a deep level. Damn, that was awesome and depressing and thoughtful. All the things. Wonderful work, my friend :)

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