Planting
Heal
“Why?”
she asks, nose to the earth
“does
is take so long to root?”
shivering
in the chill morning
of
her mending –
Running
barefoot from her bed
to
the bare patch where she had
scattered
her seeds that unspeakable
morning
in the snow remembering to
pack
the uncovered soil softly with small cold fingers
“When?”
she asks, nose to the earth
peering,
waiting, in the early morning
of
this still late winter
“will
the plan unfurl and burst those promised
pinks
and whites and yellow rows of pretty blossoms?”
and with a tiny growl of her belly – she turns and runs back
to breakfast with
grandma – back to the warm kitchen and her mama’s empty
chair
I can see her, adoring her charming innocence (and wonder with her about mama's empty chair...)
ReplyDeleteAwww Nurit - I like that you felt that the empty chair was ambiguous when I felt that it was perhaps too obvious that mama was never coming back.
DeleteOh so poignant, that mother's empty chair.....lovely the warmth of her grandma's kitchen........so sweet the wondering when the blooms will blossom. I loved this!
ReplyDeleteAww Sherry you seem to have felt the poem precisely the way it came to me - Thank you for stopping and commenting and I am thrilled that you "loved this" one :)
DeleteWow! This one has a lot of impact.
ReplyDeleteOh thank you so very much Rosemary - Delighted to receive a wow and to have you enjoy something I've written :)
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