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Bulb Flower
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The far and withered bulb flower
I planted when I was a child,
long ago shaken by years of wind
and rotted to its core –
now that it has all but disappeared
even as a crust upon the Earth,
has it found shape again in something living,
or backtracked to the volcano heart
of a mythical land?
Does it sigh for the sun or cry
when it hears a frog’s slow croak?
Does it do as I do now, watch
rain fall on stones, or is it part of a low-creepy thing
that lacks shadow and intent?
Does it sleep in the moss or
is it clay for a sculptor’s hungry hands?
Does it float through the seas as a jellyfish
or hop the meadows wild?
The far and withered blub flower
I planted when I was a child,
maybe today I saw it again
in the squirrel crossing the street
or maybe in that great tomato that was
my lunch, it returned
to now nourish my grown-up bones.
© 1992 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
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.Published in “Academy of the Heart and Mind” October 2018
https://academyoftheheartandmind.wordpress.com/2018/10/15/poems-by-allison-grayhurst/
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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
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