sweetbriarpoet
Flower Fortune- Sweetbriar: Poetry and fragrance.
Seventh Entry-Flowers
family Black keys in blue pants striped with
windows of little dotted petunias. Sidling
by in a leather jacket by two women strolling a pram.
Withered old hands pick up a can off the street, and place
the hard rusty metal into a bag. Pink rosy circles
painted on her cheeks.
Gabe is feeling a bit better, though his eyes are still glossy. I wandered into our main hall this morning to find Rev and my twin boys eating cheerios out of a bowl and watching television. Rev smiled at me with big brown eyes crinkling, asking me how my little boy was. I kissed his cheek in repsonse and started tying Trinity's braids. Her thin, mousy hair made me wish she had a proper mother. She rubbed her nose with a free hand and wrinkled it just like her father used to do. Where's Harry, I asked, noticing his jacket wasn't laid on the kitchen table, it's usual resting place. He's taken Ginny out shopping, Rev answered, popping cheerios into his mouth. He ruffled Christopher's hair. Time for school, I pushed them all out the door and Rev turned around smiling at me. Your day off, he teased.
Harry's parents used to belong to a very high, wealthy country club that only allowed certain old members' children to join. They had never really fit in there; they were much more liberal than the rest of the group. However, they enjoyed eating brunch every weekend with some of their old friends. When we were younger, Rev and I used to visit Harry there, laughing at his pinned suit and shiny shoes. One day, we walked around the gardens and parks, holding hands and running through the flowers. A huge hill loomed behind the main building, and we took turns rolling down the wet grass, falling at the bottom into tufts of furry weeds. The last day Harry's family was allowed back into the club was when we all snuck into the kitchens, just to see what it was like behind the curtains. We stole sandwiches, and when we went back, Rev knocked over a huge pot of boiling water. A flame shot out of the range, and we had to use the fire extinguisher to put it out. We laughed and ran, hoping no one had seen us. But cameras had. And Harry's parents laughed when they reprimanded us.
When Rev returned from taking the kids to school, we took turns reading The Sound and the Fury to Oliver until Harry came home. He was holding little Ginny in his arms, and bagels in a bag hung around his wrist. I loved him then, as he set the bagels on the counter. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and his hair was messed. I wondered what he would have done if he hadn't fallen in love with me. Been more successful, surely. He handed me the baby, and I smiled down at her. I realized she looked just like him excepting her hair is fiery. I wished she could tell me how she feels when she cries.
Poetry cornered by scrolling sweetbriar.
Touched in a corner, golden fawns laughing-tired
of being thrown around by a universe too huge for small words.
windows of little dotted petunias. Sidling
by in a leather jacket by two women strolling a pram.
Withered old hands pick up a can off the street, and place
the hard rusty metal into a bag. Pink rosy circles
painted on her cheeks.
Gabe is feeling a bit better, though his eyes are still glossy. I wandered into our main hall this morning to find Rev and my twin boys eating cheerios out of a bowl and watching television. Rev smiled at me with big brown eyes crinkling, asking me how my little boy was. I kissed his cheek in repsonse and started tying Trinity's braids. Her thin, mousy hair made me wish she had a proper mother. She rubbed her nose with a free hand and wrinkled it just like her father used to do. Where's Harry, I asked, noticing his jacket wasn't laid on the kitchen table, it's usual resting place. He's taken Ginny out shopping, Rev answered, popping cheerios into his mouth. He ruffled Christopher's hair. Time for school, I pushed them all out the door and Rev turned around smiling at me. Your day off, he teased.
Harry's parents used to belong to a very high, wealthy country club that only allowed certain old members' children to join. They had never really fit in there; they were much more liberal than the rest of the group. However, they enjoyed eating brunch every weekend with some of their old friends. When we were younger, Rev and I used to visit Harry there, laughing at his pinned suit and shiny shoes. One day, we walked around the gardens and parks, holding hands and running through the flowers. A huge hill loomed behind the main building, and we took turns rolling down the wet grass, falling at the bottom into tufts of furry weeds. The last day Harry's family was allowed back into the club was when we all snuck into the kitchens, just to see what it was like behind the curtains. We stole sandwiches, and when we went back, Rev knocked over a huge pot of boiling water. A flame shot out of the range, and we had to use the fire extinguisher to put it out. We laughed and ran, hoping no one had seen us. But cameras had. And Harry's parents laughed when they reprimanded us.
When Rev returned from taking the kids to school, we took turns reading The Sound and the Fury to Oliver until Harry came home. He was holding little Ginny in his arms, and bagels in a bag hung around his wrist. I loved him then, as he set the bagels on the counter. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and his hair was messed. I wondered what he would have done if he hadn't fallen in love with me. Been more successful, surely. He handed me the baby, and I smiled down at her. I realized she looked just like him excepting her hair is fiery. I wished she could tell me how she feels when she cries.
Poetry cornered by scrolling sweetbriar.
Touched in a corner, golden fawns laughing-tired
of being thrown around by a universe too huge for small words.
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