The Untouchables
Long to touch the rows u p o n rows of coneflowers,
but the bees, they b u z z, and the butterflies own.
Favorite intrepid host, the red-winged blackbird, towers
over the purpleness of his downturned petal throne.
Eyes flit back and forth as g o l d e n splashes cool
the p i n e y pond of koi. Serenity of zephyr scent
sends introspective id swimming like this school —
no longer in this worrisome world, exhaustion spent.
Traverse the paths of no work, no play - merely a b a n d o n
to holly bushes, lady slippers, roses with whimsical names.
Snowball hydrangeas, blueberries like goose pimples - stand in
the nether of shadow and sun, the hometown of God’s acclaim.
Close my eyes - bluster of multicolored petals from the sky,
cover my i n v i s i b l e frame… uninvited flocks gather
in an undecided decade of “don’t know when or why.”
P o s t u r i n g — shan’t get myself in a botanical lather.
Have faith, the untouchables are thriving with grace,
waiting for the usual feet to pass time, adorn this place.
7/31/2020
Silent one’s Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies! Poetry Contest
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