i am afraid for the orange mums

 

 

I Am Afraid For The Orange Mums

I am afraid for the orange mums outside my door.
They believe they are the sun.
They believe the cruel cold, hidden in distant clouds,
will not discover their vulnerability.
But it is the way of things, all gentle, trusting things,
uncovered & discovered, seeking hope for protection.

Frigid snow walkers don gray boots & stomp the world.
They are looking for the mums.
The mums, with their soft petals, so like the sun.
The mums, that group closely, with no bad intent,
till they blacken and break with the frigid wind.
Innocent basket cases, bright frozen mums.

 

Reviews

[Markymark]

I suppose this piece could be interpreted as a duality......Dickenson like, but I see it head-on. I can see another image (or two) by focusing on the shadows, but for the most part the first layer is enough in this poem.

Kudos

mark

[W.k.kortas]

For, sadly, the meek do not inherit...this is almost Dickensonian (Emily as opposed to Amy), something of a different look and feel for your writing--but the language, praise God, is no less effective than its predecessors.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

I really like this... a very creative way to talk about how the good people getting trampled by the greedy and selfish. Nicely done.