wild roses – – haiku

Gardening or keeping potted plants was not for my mother as I grew up, but in later years she tended an hydrangea bush and tidied her yard. Everyday I remember her, sometimes pondering the things she left behind.

.

wild roses

on a pair of coffee cups

her unknown dreams

.

.

©️2019 Ontheland

The pin

My mother

was not one for symbols

poetry, flowers, song

Life was survival

drawing within the lines

propriety

avoiding illness, death, disgrace

She loved in a quiet way

I love you, not said

was to be understood

shown in service

in food prepared

in time given

in a kiss goodnight…

She offered her token

with shyness

surprised to discover

it would be treasured

(did I not show my love?)

an ornate but simple pin

of her mother’s mother, Catherine

C Mc K,

entwined initials

of a mother who died young,

a connection in my hands to

to touch

to wander with

into invisible realms.

~

Inspired by dVerse Tuesday Poetics: Threads of Feeling