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Sweet Columbine

Some words cling to us like ivy,
While others slip, drip, fall;
I didn’t know you were called
Aquilegia caerulea, sweet Columbine.

But I knew you looked like a star
Holding a flower with a heavy heart,
A chest that drooped in the dusklight
On a soft evening in June.

Sometimes we forget “you”
And think of the Forget-Me-Nots,
Growing in our own arrogance -
Our own, our own want. What did you want?

You wanted to live like
Chrysanthemums in bloom
As the trees shook off
Their green coats and became butterflies.

You wanted to dangle
With the Spanish moss and forget yourself.
Become part of the scene of
The world and blend.

But I wouldn’t let you fade.
You were the star holding a flower,
And each time your petals fell
I wanted to be the water, the sun, the soil

That made you lift your drooping eyes
And spread your leaves like fan palm.
I wanted to put you in a vase
And carry you to see the sugar pine

Or the sea oats on the breezy shore.
It’s possible I’m forgetting some words,
Words I didn’t need to say, and said,
Words like “adventure” and “living.”

Words you weren’t having. You wanted to keep growing
In the poor soil, alive, but not living to see
The coast. You said the aspens
Were an ocean of gold and you felt the waves

Crash through you with each August wind.
I didn’t know you were called
Aquilegia caerulea, sweet Columbine,
But I’ll forget you not.

--

Mad Word List 8.28.18

Ivy
Aquilegia caerulea
Columbine
Fan palm
Moss
Chrysanthemum
Sugar pine

--

I enjoy storytelling in poetry.

I'm also being a little more selective with my word list. I was given a few more official plant names for this one and other words that just didn't fit where I wanted to go with this. Part of being a poet is learning to discern how the outside world impacts your work and after acknowledging that impact, choosing how much that influence commands the direction of your work.

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