To One Absent

After I became like you, hand
searching along the stair rail
for anything secure,
I moved the fern pot.
Took it from its place on the landing
in the path of questioning feet,
put it somewhere else.
Now I’ve forgotten to water it.

I’ve learned that fronds shrivel
when care is withdrawn,
attention marshaled on moving up,
feeling out one step at a time,
climbing in blind obedience
to that disappearing place.

-Carol Brockfield
flashquake, Summer 2008

Advertisements

About Carol Foreman Brockfield

Poet in Medford, Oregon
This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s