
on a vase of tulips:
the pinks whites yellows
reaching upward outward
way over the edge
opened wide to their silken centers
until inside out
suffused with the vibrant morning
light
they surrender who they are
with wordless grace
leaving only
small soft footprints
across the kitchen table
should I wish
to follow
Another “golden oldie” from two decades ago, first appearing in North Shore Magazine in 2005.
Gorgeous – your words scattered like petals – definitely inspires a follow!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Jazz!😘
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think that journey started the moment you had me reaching outward.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love that, Ken! Thank you so much!🙏💙
LikeLiked by 1 person
😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
“leaving only
small soft footprints…”
Love this image…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much – and for reading!
LikeLike
I realized this morning I was looking for your voice. I had to go looking for it but I found it here. I like this poem very much.
LikeLike
Thank you so very much, Dan!
LikeLike