Spring
In May
lilies of the valley
bloomed beneath our
kitchen window
and my mother
would weep on
open leaves, softly
on silent white
Christmas bells,
into a forest of yawning
golden daffodils
until her tears ran
dry and the
flowers fell
away
and she would wait
again for spring
saving her tears for
something she loved
© 1996 Zydeco Fish
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1 comment:
you appear to be in a creative state of mind, post-wise...photos, now poetry...all you have left to do is submit some original artwork, or an audio track of you playing the guitar...
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