Thursday Poem

Thursday is still my favorite day of the week. There is poetry today in the cool September air. There's poetry hiding in school books. There's poetry in the changing leaves. And because Delia is hosting the traveling poetry road show this week, poetry blooms again in the blogosphere.

This little poem I wrote for one of my postcard poems. Seems fitting for so much change around me. No title yet, but it is the start of something golden and true and real.

Looking forward to writing a poem on next week's prompt.

Today I plant impatiens
to conceal the mass grave of my garden,
where flowers die in summer’s late wane.

The low hanging heads of the hydrangeas
have forgotten how blue they truly are.
But memory never allows for such subtraction.

A flower remembers its long, slender stem,
the water pooling at the roots. It remembers
what it means to be in love with itself—

light gushing light. The curious jewel of an eternal bud.


odessa said…
i love how you wrote of flowers remembering their own beauty at the end of summer. there's a melancholy but also hopeful quality to it. as if by remembering, they'll bloom more beautifully the next time around.

"light gushing light" is lovely!
The second stanza is very good. It sticks in mind.
GreenishLady said…
Oh, this poem is like a perfect bloom, petals layered just-so.
jillypoet said…
wow! your language is just gorgeous. great words, great pairings of words. you are definitely on to something. all of your new poems of late have a certain linguistic flair! bravo!
January said…
Hi Jill. Thanks. I feel like I really need did in and stop writing short pieces. Everythin I've written lately have been quick hits.
January said…
Thanks, everyone, for your comments.
Rethabile said…
Loved that. Flowers should be in love with themselves.
kj said…
to be in love with oneself....yes!

i love seeing how much you love writing. me too.

love this...I love the hanging heads around the, mass grave forgetting the blues...and of all things, impatiens...I love them, too.
polka dot witch said…
this leaves me with such a powerful image: "low hanging heads ..." it's just as easily about us as it is about your garden and that's the magic!
...deb said…
This is a wonderful poem for fall...captures so much.

I think you should send it to Bolts of Silk for Crafty Green Poet to consider for the "fall lineup"'s gorgeous.
jim said…
Really beautiful, and I mean that in the good way.

Sorry not to have been around much with the blogging thing, but as you probably can guess, that I'm taking a little siesta. I'll wake up soon.

And yes, I'm toying with a postcard poem for you, too.
A truly lovely poem, with delightful and fresh images..."have forgotten how blue they were" -- "Light gushing light"--I love this!
Jenn from WRD said…
Jan, that's really, really pretty! I always notice end of the season flowers...and how the sunflowers seem to hang their weary heads. I'd love to one day use one (or more) of your poems on my scrapbook pages!
loving the idea of what a flower remembers...truly evocative. I am so glad I got to read this today.
(your postcard poem project was such a great idea)
AnnieElf said…
I loved the line ...allows for such substractions.

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