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Rhododendron

I rise 
Out of my small hard bed 
Of childhood dreams 
Just to see the 
Rhododendron bloom
Once more
Like a pink sunrise 
While my grandmothers ghost 
Follows me 
Around the old house 
As I walk 
Through each empty room 
And the memories 
Appear out of the 
Restless space 
One by one 
Guarded by the 
Strict division of walls
Yet I drag them out
Of their secret hiding place 
So that I, 
The only girl child,
Could be the Queen 
For one more day 
Before I flung them all 
To the raging wolves 
Of history.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Date: 3/18/2021 7:27:00 PM
Such a beautiful piece of writing born out of your childhood, Kathryn. I enjoyed it very much.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things