She speaks
through the flowers.
Sentences
parsed out
into each new
rosebud.
The callalilies
are memories
of The kids
growing so fast.
The wildflowers
are her spirit.
The gladiolas;
her will.
But the roses
are her soul.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
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4 comments:
This is for my grandma. She died today. I may not be posting for the next few days, but I'll try.
I'm so sorry for your loss. I lost my grandmother a couple of years ago and I know how hard that can be. Take all the time you need.
I think this poem is a fitting tribute to your grandmother. My grandmother also liked to garden so I really relate to this metaphor. I send my condolences to you and your family.
From your poems, it's evident that your grandmother means a great deal to you, and through your words, I feel snippets of your grandmother and grandfather's lives. Like Brent says, this is a loving tribute to a beautiful life. Again, my thoughts are with you and your family.
Thanks fellas. I mean it's not like it came out of left field, but it still sucks. I'm gonna write still though.
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