uprooted seed sprouts

     grown out of season

I planted you in a womanly garden

nestled among the grounding

you were my womb-flowers

summer-blue blossoms not to be


     the wing flutter

     of august afterpastures

and I longed for your scent

     soft petals against my breast

     small swallows of milkweed

fallow the deathfields where we bury


hold strong, the streamwaters

that carry a stillborn


swim upward, float on


dwell unbloomed within the arc

     a living peace of sky

     forever vined to

     my mourning

©  lori hamilton


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