A box of tulips delivered to my door.
I cut the string then lift the lid;
A cold sunrise has filled the house with light.
I`ve placed a palm cross by the kitchen window;
Easter is now just a week away.
This gift was not expected, and every bloom is red.
I drop the stems into a crystal vase.
The house so quiet I hear the shadows move,
Or is that just my breath?- I rarely note my breathing.
Resolved to live alone I have become self conscious,
Every hour seems packed with mystery,
A miracle no longer an exception.
These tulips are five wounds, I sought a different gift,
Five Easter lilies ice bright in the sun.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter,
10th. April `2022.
No comments:
Post a Comment