My Mother, 89, Observes a Particular Rose
I continue to do little creative writing exercises
With my Mom. One evening, recently, I cut some roses
from her garden and put them in a vase
on the coffee table in front of the couch
where she sits after dinner. I simply asked her
to look at the bunch and maybe tell me what was
going on inside one of the roses, and so she starts:
"Before one looks into the heart of a Rose
One sees a very delicate pink, eager to come forth
To come out in public. But, as the days go by
It becomes much larger, almost arrogant.
A central color is precise and ready
To take the Rose on many an experience:
Wouldn't you like to go further
In studying this magnificent piece
Of budding life? Now really of much broader experience."
I continue to find it amazing that my Mom can
Invite one to look at and value her life
Without being at all conscious
That she may be doing so
Before the final window of disappearance:
Stephen Vincent
Blog: http://stephenvincent.durationpress.com
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