Poem For You
I started this poem with a flower
and it was raining
crackling in sheets across the roof.
It was late and I
should have already been asleep.
The thunder struck close and I was startled.
That flower had long since drowned
and my poem had gone to rot,
but the point is
no matter how I begin
some piece of you always crops up --
whether it is your strong jaw,
your country twang,
or your mutilated thumb.
Because that flower I was thinking of
is on the struggling rosebush
that your mother planted in your childhood front yard.
Copyright © Sam Mayhue | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment