Lily Stalk

 

love

like a good joke about death

is born

when a little girl hangs cherries on her ears

and her grandma feels a spasm in her heart

 

it hardly lights up like the fire

from memories

but some tobacco remains in the old cigar box

that no one ever cleans

 

love is bitter

like wheat porridge with too much sugar

like a sigh you cannot pull out

from flesh

not even with a needle

......................................................................... 

This is my gift on the onset of spring for my readers. I give you my poem and my flower photos: