All Gone
Monday,
blossoms everywhere –
clover, Joe-Pye-weed, fleabane, Queen
Anne’s lace,
Jimson weed, jewelweed, knapweed,
black-eyed Susan, butter-and-eggs.
Finches flicking, hummingbirds
bustling,
butterflies flitting, bumblebees
madly gathering
(as though all their lives depended on
it)
and I, watching, wondering at their
hurry.
Wednesday,
machines came
cut them down
leaving only
decaying
brown
stalks
drying,
dying
in the
sun
and
every-
one
g
o
n
e
.
.
.
.
 |
| All photos by PSC |
Ohhhhh. This is beautifully done, with the diminishing word space, especially...makes my heart hurt.
ReplyDeleteOh -- then I've got it right! That's just exactly how I felt upon discovering that they'd mowed the area "clean". Thanks, De!
DeleteSo sad! It is ironic that these beauties are cut down in their prime and you have captured this so well in this poem. Like the title--our dog, Cody, understands the phrase, "all gone" and this is very simple and apt for the situation here.:)
ReplyDeleteOh thanks, Patricia! It IS sad -- and so senseless. :-| Funny you should mention Cody's understanding of "all gone". When I wrote it, I was thinking that this is one of the first phrases that toddlers comprehend. (Great minds think alike, huh? LOL) Thanks, again, for stopping by & commenting. :-)
Delete