Thursday, April 30, 2015

Scilla

I had to ask a friend for the name of "that flower." I never knew it before. My mother, the gardener, called it a weed. It is only blue for awhile in the spring, but now I know it has a name. Now I know I can plant it and it will spread where it wills. It will light up the shade.

Every spring I encounter
Blue carpets
On stray lawns,
Blue I have to remember again
Each spring.
I have never lived in a house
With such blue.
When I grew up
The next door neighbor
Had a shady patch which blued
Each spring.
I didn’t encounter it again
Until a few years ago now
On a walk around some block
Somewhere.
Now that blue appears
When we are late to church
And park a block and a half away.
I dreamed that blue last night,
A patch of flowers grew
In my living room.
When I looked out the back door
The blue covered the lawn,
A blue carpet
On my grass.
It was a Visitation
It was an Annunciation
It was Holy

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