Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

September 27: Follow the Flower that Bends

Even in early spring,
one flower always seems
to bend in its own direction,
as if to say, “Follow me. I know
where I am going.” 

Over the years, I have followed you
here and there, everywhere,
at home in a world of other-ness,
affirming we are one community, at peace.
And then nature blows the flowers away,
the houses, the wires that connect us so well,
bringing death and destruction.
“We know death is
inevitable,” one forlorn wife says,
“But that does not mean
we are ready.”

I am wishing for
that one flower that points the way,
bending slightly to a path
that few follow.
In the spring, we will shake loose routine.
A lot older now, we cannot quite travel
as we once did. But our hearts
are together,
here and there,

Today's poem came early this morning as we prepare for a trip that means we'll be far from internet from October 7 through October 25. Despite my commitment to OctPoWriMo, I won't be able to post that daily poem. But I will write in my journal and post on our return, hopefully with pictures and new adventures to share.

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