Planting Crocuses

He watches her hips
as her hands place the corms
for the crocuses in the soil

The grief of her cancer
is massive within him
though he affects stillness

Her marrow has turned
against her, only seen
through the window of medicine

They’ve kept it secret
from the children, their flowers,
and perhaps that is wrong

When the crocuses bloom,
the clatter of colors
will grieve him, but he’ll smile

/ / /

This poem was written in response to Wordle 57 at The Sunday Whirl.

18 thoughts on “Planting Crocuses

  1. Haunting. I think the line about not sharing. But also the respect to honor individual wishes. I have an extended family member in surgery today. So very thankful for the skilled ‘medicine’ that will allow continuance.

    Thank you for your visits, comments and kind words.


    • Jules, thank you for your thoughtful reply. That was a difficult stance to take in this poem, and one I personally disagree with, though I agree with you about respecting.

      I hope the surgery went well. I, too, am thankful for what medicine can do. Life is precious.



        • Jules, glad to hear your family member is doing well. And that you found the poetic form you were looking for. Glad to be of some help.



        • I couldn’t decide which lune to use, so my stones (small observances this month) will be pairs…one of each. Also at the blogspot site I did a series of Kelly (Whirl 59 – not up just yet but very soon) and Collom (Monday Melting 19) lunes. Margo directed me to the ‘write’ spot. Thanks again.


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