Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Feb 17/10: Dry Flowers


Feb 17/10: Dry Flowers, originally uploaded by susanvg.
Fragile
The flowers bereft of colour
Dry and crumble
In the winter cold
I walk to the nursing home
Fragile
The woman who sits
day after day in a wheelchair
Nearly 102
Wondering where her mother is
Fragile
I see her disintegrate
Body and mind
Fragile
Handle with care.

Fragile

3 comments:

  1. A sensitive post and poem, Marie. On the other hand, when we used to live within a complex which included a nursing home, hostel, dementia centre and retirement village, there were some very colourful, unfragile elderly there too.

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  2. I like the symbolism of the hydrangea blossoms in winter.

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  3. Your poem and its analogy stir my thoughts. Who can even conceive of being 102?

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