Horses, Kids, Dogs and Roses

HORSES, KIDS, DOGS AND ROSES

I remember we got the place
so the kids could run free;
like the chickens we bought-
little toes in mud, digging up worms.

We had a horse, two dogs;
fifty-one rose trees lined our property.
They bloomed all at once that year,
colors making their way to my eyes each morning
like some kind of crazy, bright fence around us.

Our world revolved around the seasons,
and as each new fruit was born
the children would gather them up,
bring their harvest into the kitchen,
and with blackberry and plum-stained fingers
we'd pour hot jam into steaming jars
to fill the cupboards
and take us through the winter.


Then you said the walnuts needed pruning
and you cut half of them down.

 

The horse got wild, the chickens made a mess.

Our love got lost
somewhere between the gopher holes and blue sky.


This year we tried wine with some of the grapes;
the rest turned to raisins and fell to the ground.

I kept the kids;
you kept what was left of our dreams.

I came by the other day while you weren't there
and picked what was left of the roses.

As I look past them out my morning window,

 

My thoughts return to you

 

and I remember once again
when every day was muddy and sunny
and filled with horses, kids, dogs and roses.

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Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Oh my goodness! This was filled with longing, loss and beauty. You make me sigh. You almost make me cry! It's the subtle context of your words that evokes such strong feeling without forcefulness but with language that makes me want to claw myself in pleasure. This is excellent. I have missed reading your work and this is a perfect example of why.