Memories of nights, when afterwards
I walked through lilac-scent, and black-
bird melodies, are pewter in our silver-
ware, a nail that snags my socks; it’s
a nagging dream of another world where
I had stayed for breakfast, with another.
So let us polish pewter till it mimic silver,
pretend it’s choice, and not by chance
we share the silverware and nights.
Still Life with silverware © Giorgio de Chirico
—
May 27, 2016
Björn Rudbergs writings 
What an interesting take on this image!
I smiled, Bjorn. Lots of night and other ventures are by chance that we pretend are by choice.
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Lovely poem, Bjorn–it feels very springlike in its imagery–and I love the idea of pretending that was it by convenience, or circumstance, is by choice. So human. Thanks. k.
Great. I love the meaning and observations like snagging nails on socks.
This is awesome, Bjorn. Well though-out, slyly presented and right on point.
We make our choices for reasons that makes sense at the time but later they may nag at us, or snag our socks. (Love that image.)
Oh we all like to feel we are in control of all the deviations that led us to a surprising place, but there is always the random element of chance that doesn’t give a damn about our choices or preferences.
Really seems condensed to perfection, Bjorn–every line a solid hit, especially those bittersweet ending lines which show the haunting of our lives by the ghosts of what we lived.
Revisionism – so common, I have found, a clear recall of reality is often like trying to nail jelly to the wall. “So let us polish pewter till it mimic silver” if only we didn’t … but we do! Sigh.
Great description and metaphors, Bjorn. 🙂 — Suzanne
I was immediately drawn in by the title and I love still life painting, they seem so mysterious to me. I loved the bittersweet, perhaps, ending of your poem, it certainly did make me count my past days (so far, its going good!)
Lovely polished imagery!