She planted ice
and grew roses;
nobody knew how she did it.
Her sky was different
from anybody else's in that factory town.
She planted bibles
and birthed blackbirds.
Vines climbed the trellis
like acrobats swinging closer for her smile.
________
for this.
She has a very creative thumb. Good for her!
ReplyDeleteOh. My. Goodness. Planting Bibles and growing blackbirds. An amazement of a poem.
ReplyDeleteYou always knock me back with your amazing poems. Such a strong heart in this. Such wonders that grow from it.
ReplyDeleteI love this so much, Shay!!!
ReplyDeleteI sure wish I could plant ice and grow roses. A whole garden of colorful treasures that grow from planting oddities --- I want to read that book actually. Write it for me? Maybe a short story ...
YOU
ReplyDeleteI love the oddities in this. Very creative writing.
ReplyDeletemagical, intelligent blackbirds. Love planting Bibles and growing blackbirds... such a pondering image. LOVE it!
ReplyDeleteI (especially) love the last two lines. What a sweet poem. MY gardening would not inspire anything lovely. (I specialize in killing plants.)
ReplyDeletePerfect poem for a sleepless night. This captures the flux of life, its incongruities and its odd beauties, all of which so few of us choose to nurture, but which change everything, like the smile in the last line. Another jewel in your crown, Shay.
ReplyDeleteHer sky was different
ReplyDeletethen she was blessed...to have a different sky what a gift...bkm