Ghost flower grow in shade and shadow,
harbored by the roots of a sycamore tree.
Ghost flower here, then gone tomorrow
like the boys
who picked flowers
for me.
For Open Link Night at dVerse
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
29 comments:
Everything changes with time!
the flowers die
relationships die
some for the better
some for the worse
its all part of life
A very nicely penned succinct thought. >KB
Ghost flowers.. lovely metaphor.. and works so well with that last line.
flowers come and go,
relationships do the same but like the lovely flowers that return year after year..so love returns to bloom again..lovely poem
Small poem - great in meaning.
Wow...great!
Oh! Harsh, and pretty. Made me think of Peter, Paul and Mary's "Where have all the Flowers gone?"--though I like this abrupt poem much much better.
some things fade all too quickly...sad..
boys have a way of doing that, don't they?
i love the rhythm to this, MZ! fabulous!
♥
Oh, the embrace of those sycamore roots. Lovely poem~
really reminds me of Billie Holliday's 'Strange Fruit'
We must have know the same boys!!! Another great one, MZ!!
I'm torn. This is either really sad, or reminiscent of dating in high school.
Very nice touch on those words
Incredible poem! I love this piece you did.
What was inspired you to write this?
ghost flowers, so ephemeral, if only love grew slowly and strong like the great redwoods
Awww! So sad! Well done for sure! :-)
I have been searching for an hour, just for one good poem to read, and... well, your poem just made my search an overwhelming success!
Thank you.
Sad, but so true the ghost flower haunts and leaves us~ Well Done
Here today, gone tomorrow - so much of life is like that. Well penned, MZ
A little edge, a little sigh.
Fabulously true, false flower false man
Nothing is permanent, everything changes, life is all transition. Well said.
This one has a very Japanese feeling of wistfulness and transience to it.
As the year goes, so does the life ... At least your boys of summer picked flowers for you.
How poignant.
There is always something moving about a man giving flowers to a woman.
Sigh. Love this.
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