Pink and White

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by Deborah Garrison

Peonies are the only flower I care for
and when I saw them from the window
yesterday, tumbled and heavy along
a fence, fully exploded, nodding
at the ground, hanging their heads but not
yet spoiled, I remembered
a summer (maybe seven years
ago, or was it ten?) I wasn't sure
our love would come again,
and here I am, almost

kissing the grass like that,
bursting and rich, cracked
all over like broken cake—
makes you cry but still sweet.

Comments

  1. OwenJuly 16, 2009 at 5:05 AM

    Aging ? Cracked all over ? Will love come again ?

    May we give up the things of our youth gracefully... I think I'm beginning to understand why people can have a mid life crisis... flowers bending over that want to rise straight up toward the sky again... ? I wonder at the wist in wisteria...

    Your poems are always a pleasure...

    ReplyDelete
  2. HerradJuly 16, 2009 at 6:46 AM

    Hi,

    Good poem enjoyed reading it.

    Just came by to say hello.

    Hope you are doing well and enjoying summer.

    Love,
    Herrad

    ReplyDelete
  3. JCJuly 16, 2009 at 7:18 AM

    I love mine. It's in the front yard. Same thing ... just when it gets gorgeous ... it rains and it touches the ground.

    ReplyDelete
  4. English RiderJuly 16, 2009 at 8:52 AM

    Peonies are very special. The closest replica of their perfume is Diorissimo by Dior. It, and they,are the essence of summer.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Sarah AnneJuly 16, 2009 at 11:40 AM

    Very nice. Haha-word verification is bilbo. Hobbits, anyone?

    ReplyDelete
  6. Erin DavisJuly 16, 2009 at 7:17 PM

    Oh, this is wonderful, wonderful!

    ReplyDelete

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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