river birch –
undressing
in the wind
*
the solid bones of elk antlers
or branches of a limber pine –
memory
bobcat with mange
unwatered plants
also dying
*
mountain lion
her land, before ours
invasive plants
*
scent of orange blossoms –
memories of my late grandma
who planted this tree
yarrow seedlings
pop up a week later –
each moment a small beginning
*
stopped in my tracks
by a primrose blooming –
I, too, will overcome this
Marilla was thinking of her whole past life, her cramped but not unhappy childhood, the jealously hidden dreams and the blighted hopes of her girlhood, the long, gray, narrow, monotonous years of dull middle life that followed. And the coming of Anne—the vivid, imaginative, impetuous child with her heart of love, and her world of fancy, bringing with her color and warmth and radiance, until the wilderness of existence had blossomed like the #rose.
“I have a neuroscience background - that's what my doctorate is in - and I was trained to study hormones of attachment, so I definitely feel my parenting is informed by that.”
#QuotsyJune19 | 14: #Blossom
📷: Made with Typorama
Read the whole poem here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/148341/scent-of-orange-blossoms-haiku-sen... 5y