Poetry
Wildflowers by Linda Pastan
You gave me dandelions.
They took our lawn
by squatter's rights-
round suns rising
in April, soft moons
blowing away in June.
You gave me lady slippers,
bloodroot, milkweed,
trillium whose secret number
the children you gave me
tell. In the hierarchy
of flowers, the wild
rise on their stems
for naming.
Call them weeds.
I pick them as I
picked you,
for their fierce,
unruly joy.
I am not in a happy place tonight. One might say I was in the opposite of a happy place. Unfortunately words of consolation will do me little good tonight. The three (four, five maybe) people who I would go to tonight are an ocean, a hefty plane ticket, and hours away. There is no one here that I can go to to cry. I have more to say on this, but it is related to the drama that lately occurred which I have much to say on and much to reflect on, which is, consequently, why I haven't written about it yet. I haven't felt like giving it the time it needs (deserves?).
I went into town today after my last class to get a slice of chocolate cake and watch Becoming Jane, the movie about Jane Austin's life. I checked rottentomatoes before I went, so I knew what I was getting myself into to some extent. I still wanted to see it. I really enjoyed the soundtrack. But unlike her novels Jane Austin's life does not have a happy ending, so it left me in a sad mood, which I think has just brought out feelings about my own life that I am feeling right now.
I swear, if it weren't for my poetry class I'm not sure what I'd do. It's what I look forward to the most. I actually look forward to going to class and to reading the study guide. The above poem is from our readings.
You gave me dandelions.
They took our lawn
by squatter's rights-
round suns rising
in April, soft moons
blowing away in June.
You gave me lady slippers,
bloodroot, milkweed,
trillium whose secret number
the children you gave me
tell. In the hierarchy
of flowers, the wild
rise on their stems
for naming.
Call them weeds.
I pick them as I
picked you,
for their fierce,
unruly joy.
I am not in a happy place tonight. One might say I was in the opposite of a happy place. Unfortunately words of consolation will do me little good tonight. The three (four, five maybe) people who I would go to tonight are an ocean, a hefty plane ticket, and hours away. There is no one here that I can go to to cry. I have more to say on this, but it is related to the drama that lately occurred which I have much to say on and much to reflect on, which is, consequently, why I haven't written about it yet. I haven't felt like giving it the time it needs (deserves?).
I went into town today after my last class to get a slice of chocolate cake and watch Becoming Jane, the movie about Jane Austin's life. I checked rottentomatoes before I went, so I knew what I was getting myself into to some extent. I still wanted to see it. I really enjoyed the soundtrack. But unlike her novels Jane Austin's life does not have a happy ending, so it left me in a sad mood, which I think has just brought out feelings about my own life that I am feeling right now.
I swear, if it weren't for my poetry class I'm not sure what I'd do. It's what I look forward to the most. I actually look forward to going to class and to reading the study guide. The above poem is from our readings.