A Hunger for Color

Mid-September

And a hummingbird

Zooms in

Searching the geranium

For a new red blossom.

My flowers are tired; 

There are no flowers on the potted plants,

Though out front,

Where the hummingbird is not,

Close to the earth

The yellow roses assert themselves

And the pink geraniums carry on

Alongside them.

These are Mom’s colors.

I chose these plants for this garden

To remind me of her

And the flowers I put 

In her window boxes

So she could enjoy color

As she battled cancer

From the couch.

She thought she would win.

She is gone.

The hummingbird persists.

It’s maybe too late

But I will buy a feeder for tomorrow.

 

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