Dead Head

Posted: July 9, 2010 in My Poetry
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Gild the lily,
paint it gold;
it dies anyway.
Flowers aren’t meant
for keeping –
actually grow better
when regularly beheaded.

A lone vine of ivy
creates a wall
with time;
spreading and dividing
until all gaps are filled.

Like ivy, I am stubborn
and sometimes poisonous.
I have a zeal for life,
hang on tight –
climb higher every day.

A survivor, unlike flowers
who shed their hothouse
bloom-perfume
within hours of their capture.

Mourning glory –
is that you?
Purple flowers, sometimes white;
that crazy lingering scent.

Hurtle up the fence,
and though the grass
like Alice through
the looking-glass.

Advertisements
Comments
  1. gregbrown says:

    Love the poem, reminds me a little of a jorie graham poem. . . . and I loved these lines: Flowers aren’t meant
    for keeping –
    actually grow better
    when regularly beheaded.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s