The rose
came out again
like always
in spring.
It was brilliant,
with orange and red
spread on its petals,
against a smogless,
blue sky.
I enjoyed it,
this moment of
miraculous,
surprising beauty,
before this bubble
was pierced
by the wail
of my suffering
daughter.
This was a cruel
April Fool's joke.
This is an excellent poem, from start to finish. But I especially like the second stanza.
ReplyDeleteSorry Sarah can make life so difficult for you. :( But hopefully she makes up for it in other ways.
I enjoyed the twist in the second stanza. Nice.
ReplyDeleteMosk, this is beautiful. Hopeful. Hard. Beauty. Pain. Those colors, oh those colors are a touch of pure beauty. I've missed reading you! I've been busy at the shelter. Love to you and your family!
ReplyDeleteAmy
Your second stanza is responsive to the mini-prompt in the Garden today, and you, I know, are responsive to those wails. :)
ReplyDeleteLife can be so cruel, like this, Mosk. Do hope things are better, for both of you, now. Depression can be, an evil taskmistress, at the best of time, which I know, from my personal experience.
ReplyDeleteThis is a great poem, very deep and possibly personal?
ReplyDeleteThis is such an eloquent write, Mosk ❤️
ReplyDeleteCruel indeed – but the moment was enjoyed. Sometimes we can only seize those moments of joy and beauty however brief.
ReplyDeleteSome things are so beautiful, they they certainly feel like an insult when they show themselves while our world wails.
ReplyDeleteLove the progression of the poem, the last stanza is brilliant.
sigh. hugs to you ~
ReplyDeleteSometimes our children burst beautiful bubbles of peaceful contemplation...sad your moment was lost.
ReplyDeleteKind regards
Anna :o]
Nothing can hurt like a child... hugs
ReplyDelete