The five metaphors I ended up coming up with were indian summer, day lily, crocus, first frost and ice cream. I ended up writing about a crocus.
The First Flower
A crocus
pushed its way through the ice
accumulated over months of bitter cold.
He appeared overnight,
a spot of vibrance in the endless white.
Maybe he always existed
under the snow,
and I failed to notice him
before he bloomed.
He was the first flower.
Unexpected. Beautiful.
Short lived.
By the time the insects began to chirp
he was gone.
Leaving behind only a clump of crinkled brown
to prove that he had existed.
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"He was the first flower." Like it. =)
ReplyDelete'Especially like "crocus" -- great word with great sound and strong imagery -- and "By the time the insects began to chirp"
ReplyDeleteThank you, Greg and Sara! I'm glad you enjoyed it! :)
ReplyDeletePhew, like the clump!
ReplyDeleteLovely poem with a tinge of regret.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Andy and rallentanda! :)
ReplyDeletenicely done ~ you have me wondering if this is about a man with crocus qualities, or the reverse, but either way, the missing at the end comes through
ReplyDeleteThanks, j d mackenzie!
ReplyDeleteI had intended it to be a man with crocus qualities (hence the imagery of him as a spot of vibrance in the snow, him being the first flower, etc... crocuses sprout and bloom in late March, when there's often still some snow on the ground where I live. They are bulbs that sprout, bloom and die before spring even arrives). That being said, half the charm of poetry is in its ambiguity; it can be mean two different things at the same time, so the fact that I had not intended the reverse does not mean it isn't there, lol. Thank you for leaving feedback!!
This poem brought me back to the conversation we had this evening, maybe the fact that we'd be gone somehow proved we existed.
ReplyDeleteYes, now that I reread it, you're right. This poem does have a lot to do with the transitory nature of existence. It seems to be a theme with me.
ReplyDelete