Computer screen shows
Moths flitting through air currents
Halfway cross the world
Tag Archives: flowers
Spring
plants bud and blossom
rain and mud replacing snow
as the sun comes out
dad’s old red backpack
hangs expectant on doorknob
awaiting a hike
nonwidowhood
mom’s not a widow
she’s still married to my dad
even though he died
she brings him morning glories
he brings her one pure white rose
Poem every day
I promised myself
to write poems every day
springtime in my heart
flowers blossom inside me
I plant poems by the road
Burial
pine trees all about
eagle circles overhead
dad buried in ground
mother threw five daisies in
one for each decade married
Blooming
Some plants must be coaxed
Carefully into blooming
You are such a plant
When this plant blooms
I hold rituals in my heart
Celebrating life
Nothing can evoke
More of life’s fragility
Than that rare blossom
[Writing prompt — blooming — provided by chordatesrock. You can always leave an ask on my tumblr of a word or short phrase and I will try to eventually respond with writing. I try for poetry but fiction or nonfiction may happen as well.]
Haiku #6: Sidewalk dandelions
dandelions bloom through
cracks in the sidewalk
pushing toward sunlight
Visiting Your Grave
I may never see your grave in person
But I will be there every day
That’s a promise I can keep
Every night before I sleep
As I travel to the place where you’ll lay
I will be the rain that falls on your grave
I will be the wind in the trees in the graveyard
I will be the soil that grows the plants
I will be the plants that grow from you
I will be the sky that shelters the earth
I will be the earth lying under the sky
I will be the sun shining down on the trees
I will be the trees growing over the graves
I will be the needles and leaves that fall from the trees
And carpet the ground where you lay
So don’t fear that I will never visit
I will be with you every day
I’ll be the rain and the wind
And the sun and the stars
And the earth made into clay
I will see you from above
I will see you from below
I will see you from without
I will see you from within
And if you want my flowers
Just look for the weeds
Growing at the base of your grave
[This is not the poem I’d been working on. It just came out, rather quickly, all on its own. Almost too fast to write down properly. These pictures are the actual graveyard my father has picked for when he dies, and he has also picked out a beautiful plain pine coffin. He loves how peaceful this tiny graveyard in the middle of the forest is. I believe it suits him perfectly. I will miss him terribly, but I feel better knowing his body will be laid to rest in such a wonderful place.]