The Lilac Bush Lies Dormant
". . . lilacs are blooming in side yards
all over Iowa, still welcoming you."
(From "Father," by Ted Kooser)
For a week this spring, the thick syrup
of lilacs flavored the air. Such a brief
season to bud, bloom, and decay. Yours
lasted a century; a hundred flowerings
followed by a hundred frosts.
There is no way to avoid wilted
stems in brackish water, the gentle
fall of petals on the night stand.
Even if I had placed a new sprig
in the vase each morning,
you both would have died anyway.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
This week's Totally Optional Prompt is "Horse" by Ted Kooser. I have heard him read on NPR and have several of his collections. His poetry is, on the surface, straightforward, with accessible imagery and language. His voice is the voice of 'everyman' and his poems have a deceptive power. A consummate observer, Kooser's poems celebrate the power of the small, intimate moments that we might otherwise pass over as insignificant, but which make up a life. So, in the spirit of Ted Kooser's work, my offering for this week.