the pink flower, or God knows

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my ears get fooled by neighbors
and all the wrong that i hear
and my feet get sore from foxtails
those insidious small devils

and don’t you ever wonder
i mean, doesn’t it ever get to you
how He is still everywhere
and everything no matter what?

and i almost forgot without
this morning when i left
in a huff that i snapped
one picture of a pink mildness

i looked at it once, and now twice
and on the third time viewing
i finally saw its burnt edges

yet i think it cannot detract
from the multiplication of
sympathies He’s given me
in this very continuous moment

as i look and re-look at earth
in this very important flower
don’t you see a prayer?

don’t you see an instruction
to quiet self, to get out,
without the weight of ego
to be only soft and burning, —
an open-fisted body

::

for Real Toads &after Mary Oliver’s
When the Roses Speak, I Pay Attention

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On Thanksgiving

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someone’s shorn rose bush~
her hair begins to fall out
on Thanksgiving day

Weekly Writing Challenge: Haiku Catchoo!

Still thankful! Her type of Leukemia has a very high cure rate with treatment. Less than 30 years ago, this was not the case. Like a rose bush cut back, we pray for vigorous regrowth once chemotherapy is complete.

My Child

it’s too early

for cutting back the roses~

be my late December

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