Pressed Flowers

Brides of spring

When I opened my
grandmother’s unabridged
dictionary, immense
as the ocean she
sailed across, I
found inside the
flattened petals of
her past, the four-
leaf clovers they
said she picked
without looking,
just reached down
knowing where
they were by luck.

Later, I pulled
new blossoms from
the waves of fruit
trees in my family’s
turbulent orchard,
currents of grass
moving swiftly under-
neath, to press my
own luck deep into
our heavy books so
that another can
come across my
fortunate find,
and remember.

NaPoWriMo #8

I’m writing a poem every day in April as part of NaPoWriMo’s celebration of National Poetry Month. Won’t you join me in poetry?

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2 thoughts on “Pressed Flowers

  1. The ending of this took me by surprise. It was like a spotlight directed back on the rest of the poem, casting new shadows and new lights. A brilliant poetic move. It really underlined the connection to memory and emotion. I love how the ocean metaphor is cast in the orchard. Not to mention the ancient artifact of an actual dictionary you can open. It will be hard to know where to press flowers in online dictionaries.

    Maureen

    1. Yes, we’re running out of really big books to press flowers in, I fear. Again I began the poem and then it took its own lead. I’m learning to let them do their own thing, I guess. I’m happy you noticed the ocean metaphor, Maureen.

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