all the flowers that you planted, mama,
in the backyard,
all died when you went away.
she found them at the thrift store,
a worn out but pretty old tin full of wildflower seeds;
truth be told, she really only bought them for the pretty old tin.
she grabbed them in the early springtime
from an out of the way corner on a too-high shelf,
in the closet in the kitchen while she was spring cleaning.
they caught her eye next morning
as she made her way to the backyard to clean out the garden beds.
what the heck, she thought, maybe they’d be pretty.
they were probably ancient, but maybe
they’d grow a wonderland, beyond her wildest dreams,
in front of her daughter’s basement window.
or maybe they’d grow a beanstalk,
she laughed at herself, and maybe paper cranes can fly…
she wasn’t much for grim fairy tales, but maybe …
she smiles to herself as she and her faithful cheshire kitty
survey the beautiful wildflowers one summer morning,
half expecting to see some somber mushrooms, a talking caterpillar,
or maybe some red paint drops.
in my wildest dreams, fairy tales (in blog), oh the places you’ll go
Marvin, the stuff’s italicized and WordPress and I are not friends… xo