Sweet Pea's Song
My song is sepia glazed,
old eyes framed in flower crowns,
filtered through sunflower stalks and coffee grounds,
deposited in bank accounts
for safekeeping,
to gather up premature interest.
I only ask that the shareholders
steep the looseleaf pages of sheet music
in boiling hyperbole,
before pressing the ink to oozing wounds.
Resonate in chests—
drip down upturned faces,
cling to sweet pea petals
and cheer for the Detroit Reds.
Don't just watch from the windowsill,
TV casting an artificial glow
against petite, pleated faces,
eyes filling with water,
loosening soil to swirl in their pools,
stem fisting a flower-patterned quilt,
thorny branches tearing the pattern to shreds.
Sing my song with yarrow breath,
perennial precipitation and lilting tone.
That's what the lonely aster flower sings tonight,
hanging limply connected to a clothesline
of parched, crinkling florets.
Hibernating hydrangeas watch the seasons die out
through the frosted glass window,
popcorn ceiling hanging askew
above the trumpeting Angel's Brugmansia.
But lily pads like to lie,
like how they ascend from the bottoms of lakes,
not falling from tall trees to settle
in layers on lotus dew like the lyrics of my song,
waterlogged pages spread, papyrus pulp.
My song is hard to sing
but sits in your bones
once you do decide
to trill along with my sweet-budding melody.
Sage and lavender hold fast
to the aches of hollow marrow.
Ground up rosary residue leaves
sticky red trails of rose-scented sentiments--
poised peony prayers there for the picking.
My grandma's voice litts over the meadows,
Sweet Pea, are you ready yet?
She knows my song,
without hearing it,
without seeing me,
without seeing pink sweet pea petals perforating
Mexican Cempaspuchitl-afterlife bridges,
chasms for spirits and lyrics to fill.
A/N
I submitted this for a competition this week, so we'll see how that goes and I'll keep you updated.
If you have any question comments or concerns I'll be sure to get back to you as soon as I can.
Thanks lovelies!
YOU ARE READING
Technically
PoetryHi there, this is a poetry/short story/flash fiction/ whatever collection. I'm writing this for a few reasons: 1. I don't share my writing. I can't read aloud, I get all red in the face and the words never come out right. That hopefully won't happe...
