#47 Write About Flowers

#47 Write About Flowers

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This is a tour of my backyard, its trees and a remembrance.

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Write About Flowers September 11, 2020 #47
Elizabeth Singleton

My husband said write about flowers
Instead of political gloom and doom.
But I can’t see any outside my window,
Not a single solitary bloom.

The cottonwood’s leaves are still brightly green
After the shock of snow and cold this week.
There’s an inkling on some of its branches
Of fall’s yellow, then brown winter bleak.

Our massive spruce stands tall and sturdy
In the southwest corner of the yard.
It will be thirty-five this December.
Memories of that tiny tree we dearly guard.

Our ash and pinon cluster together,
One above the other.
Friends they’ve seemed to always be.
Children of the great earth mother.

There’s a little plot near the back of our house
Where once a sunflower grew.
With bright yellow petals surrounding its seeds,
Remembering it makes me tearily blue.

In the Washington Memorial Garden
We buried our first feline friend.
An in- and outdoor orange tabby,
He was too young to meet his end.

Thirty-four years seems so long ago,
But I miss him to this day.
I miss his green eyes and his gentle purr.
The loss never fully goes away.



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Comments

headfirstonly's picture

There's so much sadness in this - I guess that even our gardens can't always be the safe havens from the rest of the world than we need now more than ever. The line about your cat really hits home. But the seasons change, and it won't be too long before we start to see signs of new growth and rebirth. We've just got to hold on...