Monday, September 13, 2021

Hyacinth


She would set the house ready 

Whisking away winter‘s grime,
she wiped the windows of our souls clean,
then poured the used-up water on the roots of a backyard forsythia

Lenten offerings made in silence

I recall the bulb, its fragrance like a prayer, leaves firm  pointed toward heaven

A scent not unlike her own
all my springs ever since

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