Easter lilies grow
from the old dog’s grave,
four last year, ten
this year. She is a pretty woman,
ginger haired, who tells me this, pointing
a graceful finger - but
she reminds me
of my dead dogs, their old faces
smiling out from
nodding lilies. Easter is
on next month’s calendar
for today is St Pat’s day
when the evening news is full
of Irish frivolity –
green beers and outrageous
ties on parliamentarians.
This year, my friend gave up
meat for lent; as a child
it was lollies for me. All
these thoughts born from
a dog’s grave and the seasonal
growth of more lilies.
--
Andrew
http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
http://frankshome.org/AndrewBurke.html
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