I want her to remember how I let
the grapevines grow wild for robins
and called her outside to see the nest
full of delicate blue.
I want her to remember that I was kind
those brittle, black-boned mornings
and how we held each other and cheered
for each baby bird as it flew.
55 words for Kerry at Real Toads. Also submitted to Poetry Pantry at Poets United.
Sunday, April 2, 2017
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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
23 comments:
MZ--I agree with Shay. The phrase "full of delicate blue" is especially beautiful.
This image is beautiful & touching!
I think this is what a child need to see. What a grown up need.
beautiful and delicate. are the 'i' and 'how' transposed in the first line? my brain switches it
How could she forget?
deft and swift are you...or you are
This is fantastic, Kell. I love it!
She will always remember! What a tender moment, captured!
Such a poignant moment--your ability to capture so much emotion in a few words, an image, is always striking
just wonderful, MZ ~
Memories that hold this much passion can't be forgotten.
She will remember, and speak of it when you are gone. Our legacy is moments such as this. Beautiful write!
Beautiful.
ZQ
This is sooo beautiful, MZ ❤️
Yes, that would be a lovely way to be remembered - especially by her.
She will remember. Beautiful!
Whether parent to child or child to parent--or any other relationship that time interrupts--this poem will be like a scent in a handkerchief, reminding of kindness, hope and love.
exsquisite
Yes, there is nothing like making those wonderful moments of memory. Lovely.
Terrifically sweet. k.
There's something awe-inspiring, in watching life, around us, whether, it's a nest of young Robins learning to fly and leave the nest or seeing life, the wondrous eyes of children.
She won't forget... beautiful
I love your inclusion of the word "brittle"--it stands in such stark contrast to the picture of the unbreakable bond and strong memories being created in these moments between the two of you and the baby birds.
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