for M., A., & P.C.
first, life—but what of it
life is all around, this collection of cells
bodies coming together
time and time and time
love—have you always known
not adoring eyes but daily bread
and fencing to keep you safe
how you shook it, railing
doubt and doubt and doubt
some lesson—what is it
that mistakes can or can’t be
forever, a path misstepped
can be straightened and lead where—?—
it always wanted to go
(regret no and no and no)
being every summer’s pledge
to keep tomato vines trim
zucchini picked small
what luxury are we, unpruned
and what cruel joke of divine design
that we bloom fully
only in the eye of the tearing wind
I like this one very much. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. Today the poem came early and first. A good, get-it-out feeling.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s wonderful when that happens. 🙂
LikeLike
a bleak – or perhaps, stripped of all pretense – final couplet ~
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wistful, yet the hope is still intact I think. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
The writing always restores a kind of hope for me, whether I’m actively seeking it or not.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think that’s true. It makes connections somehow, especially when I’m feeling isolated.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This was very interesting…the open questions and reflections starting perhaps in a garden but spinning out much further…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fabulous, thought filled write!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That opening stanza! I can hardly recover to read the rest.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m hoping this is a good thing. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. Absolutely.
LikeLike