I Didn’t Find You There


The rose bed was
the first place I
looked, clearing a
mass of dead desire
that still stabbed me
until I bled once more
with longing.

Next I thought surely
the perennial border would
surround you safely,
but there was
nothing, until I spotted
at the base of your demise
some lusty strangers
who could care less.

I should go buy
the designer annuals that
are brashly bright,
every year kidding me
that they can
replace you in
the empty spaces of
my landscape.

NaPoWriMo #6

*This is a valediction, gardener’s version, suggested by NaPoWriMo’s Day 6 writing prompt.<

I’m writing a poem a day in April as part of NaPoWriMo’s celebration of National Poetry Month. We may be able to live without poetry, but who would want to?<


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