Thursday, May 24, 2007
May Flurries (an occasional poem for today)
So. It's May 24th and it’s snowing
on what little potential for beauty
this garden holds. I doubt beauty, knowing
in my heart that such flurries are routine.
I know what you’re thinking. I know you’ll say
you saw that heart coming. Like any flake
it flutters. Melts on contact. A cliché
is all it is, you'll say. Give me a break.
And I will. Hearts break. Look at my garden,
at Jacob's ladder, at the globeflower's
ice-bound buds. It’s cold. No doubt they'll harden
like I did. Go straight from frozen to sour.
Being sour, I know these buds won’t open,
will never look better. But here’s hoping.
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4 comments:
You know, I think I appreciate your whimsical moments most...
(goes without saying that this is a gorgeous g-d photo...)
Ha! Thanks, A.
I'm sure the neighbours must wonder about me. Out squatting in the garden on a cold windy day. Because of the wind I had to do lots of shooting to get a clear shot. I hadn't planned on writing an occasional poem either, but hey, it was that kind of day.
Think those Globe flowers would grow here?
Ya, I'm sure they'd do well there. I know just the spot...
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