Poetic Referendum(s) On Life

Wild Love

Remember the camp creek, spying for frogs
on weedy banks? You were freckled, and I
was not. Buttercups captured our wonder,
applying those soft, yellow heads to skin --
happy makeup to show mother.

Under shaded apple, black and yellow --
graceful, dutiful. Pollinated pink buds bounced,
freely inhaled, while chasing ourselves
in spaces behind that blocked-up trailer.

Serenaded by insistent, deep-hued violets,
torn by small hands from their beds,
amid sparse, bright green blades,
brief bouquets we collected with grins,

handed a silent woman on her patchwork
in shade. Our commotion, her daily devotion,
she remarked of our luck. With thirst, fed them
in just the right mug, dipped in well water.

Small, slithering grass snakes grasped
on edge of tall, thick fern, you did not near.
Bright white trillium would appear, thrived
early that summer, she instructed us leave,

let stray in forests like me, naturally. But,
that mower gassed, smudged oil on red paint,
roared to life. He let you take the handle.
Running ahead, dared dandelions speechless,

I spared any yellow friend you could not send down.
Age-puffed, the wisp spores flowed like wild bubbles
blown wayward from stick. Like me, soaring up
lonely hills and trees, before gentle falling.

Wildflowers meandered forgotten rust rails,
more color than could be collected alone,
dead and alive. Simple serendipity
captured, their cost afforded smiles from her.

Before maturation, I loved you, and you stopped
loving me. Nature inspired the young dreamer, hope,
nostalgically spares summers when she thrived,
loved equally, but adored one child’s wild love.



5.11.22
37 lines free verse

Left out:
Innocence near power lines hidden,
revealed strawberry under red-tinted leaves.

Last edit:
5.16.22