Thanks Alan and Lucy.  I will look at your suggestions when I have a bit of time.

Dear Nas,

You have fine work here. I will offer some ideas, but all are for you to use or not. Mainly cutting down, making it tighter.

I’m filling hours
with dragged-up work –
cleaning the already shiny,
tidying neat cupboards, 
searching for activity;

but my hand still reaches
for the silver necklace
with sapphire stone.
I remember the day
you gave it,
wrapped in tissue,

the way your fingers
brushed my skin
when fastening it.

Days of happiness
like green leaves,
turned brown ....

Love
Alan

Hi Peach

I agree that less words and curt phrasing does lend a frantic feel but the point is that the memories do come to the surface, the MC still remembers and part of her wants to but that inevitably leads to sadness.

I do think less words and curt phrasing lends a frantic quality since it is the need to immerse in activity to prevent troubling thoughts to surface...of course it's your bauble!

Thanks for the suggestions Peach and you reminded me that I have edited this since posting but haven't posted the revised version.

Thanks for reading Terry

Revision (II)

I’m always rushing,
filling hours
with dredged-up work –
cleaning already shiny surfaces,
tidying neat cupboards,
searching for anything
so I don’t pause 

but my hand still reaches
for the silver necklace
with its sapphire stone

and I remember the day
you gave it to me,
wrapped in tissue paper;

the way your fingers
brushed my skin
when fastening it.

Days of happiness
like green leaves
have turned brown. 




* * * * * * * * *

I’m always rushing,
filling hours
with dredged-up work –
cleaning surfaces that already shine,
tidying cupboards, neatly arranged,
searching for anything
so I don’t pause 
but my hand still reaches
for the silver necklace
with its sapphire stone.
and I remember the day
he gave it to me,
wrapped in tissue paper,
the way his fingers
brushed my skin
when he fastened it.

Days of happiness
like green leaves
have turned brown



* * * * * *

Original

I’m always rushing,
filling hours
with dredged-up work –
cleaning surfaces that already shine,
tidying cupboards, neatly arranged,
searching for anything
so I don’t pause to think
but my hand still reaches
for the silver necklace
with its sapphire stone.
and I remember the day
he gave it to me,
wrapped in tissue paper,
the way his fingers
brushed my skin
when he fastened it
round my neck.

Days of happiness
like green leaves
have turned to brown.