The Collector

 

The Collector

•

this day as I journey
I come upon a stranger
standing by the road looking sad
heavy box held in his arms
clutched close to his breast

he stares into my eyes expressionless
his gaze stops me still
fixes me in place

his face is tired and drawn
etched in withered worry

when at last I move
I draw close enough to see
this sullen man is me

everyone is born with some special talent
he sighs
I am a collector
of tears shed in moonlight
the pain of love’s betrayal
the grief of empty lives

he concludes
and offers out his hands
that open on the box

he beckons me retrieve
this container he protects

filled with apprehension
I reach and grasp the case
lift it cautiously from his grip
lay it gently at my feet

it opens as I do
slowly
to reveal its strange contents

three lone broken hearts


mute with wonder I behold
confused yet riveted
I ponder haunted as I do
then inquire of the meaning

these are yours
I am told

created by your deeds
cruelly left behind
as coldly you moved on

each belonged to one who trusted you
a trust you did betray
without a second thought
love you tossed aside
abandoned carelessly

now the burden of this box
is mine beyond the grave

eyes lowered in fatigue he exhales

it was on a road like this
that it was passed to me
I have carried it too long
I am weary from the load

looking into my eyes he points

now you must bend and lift
and clutch it to your breast
to struggle with its weight
until you pass it on

searching the distance he goes on

someday a stranger will approach
over that horizon
he will stop and stare
transfixed by your presence

you will charge him with this chest
then he will lift and carry
as I do
in this cycle of forever

for he too
will be you

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

• photo collage entitled “Broken Broken Broken” – by: rob kistner © 2010
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14 thoughts on “The Collector”

  1. Haunting! In fact, immediately I thought of Dickens’ Scrooge haunted by Christmas Past, Present and Future! A little intimidating in some ways, because this could, indeed, be any one of us! A beautiful piece!

  2. I first read your poem yesterday and came back today to re-read it and comment.

    The prompt takes on so different a meaning when used in this context. So elegiac a quality is here, and the artwork and music lend their to it. The narrator’s burden weighs heavy, the passing on of a sad truth common to us all.

    Very nice, Rob.

  3. Your words and art work move me like the tide. Your blog is by far the best I have viewed and listened to this year. I am glad to add you to my list of blogs I follow. Thank you for sharing. PJ

  4. It makes me think…how many broken hearts are in my box, how many tears–a tidal wave. It makes me pray every day to be kinder. You’ve written a thing of great beauty here.

  5. This is a heavy burden. Break a heart carry for ever more a box with broken hearts. The load is heavier than any baggage I could imagine. Sort of reminds me of the male version of this story The Red Shoes by Hans Christian Anderson. Hauntingly good poem!

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