Gladiolus

Gladiolus

She ate sliced ham out of a zip-lock bag,
standing beside me on the subway platform
with her side-tilted hat showing she was
all spunk and all seriousness, making me
feel absurd to be holding these gladiolus
and heading to the far west side of the city
where my sweet friends with an Irish accent
had just had a baby removed.  

This girl with her hat and her ham and I
watched each other as the subway lights
came crashing through the tunnel
as though light could make a sound, and
when the doors opened, the girl sat
directly across from me.  Me on my way
to see my friend without the baby
and my hands felt so empty and so wrong
to be holding those enormous gladiolus,
half-a-dozen fabulous gladiolus
that I almost gave to the girl with the hat
because gladiolus, what a ridiculous thing to bring
to a place like that.

Flowersfriendshipmodern life

◄ After Everyone is Dead

Alarm ►

Comments

Profile image

Lynn Dye

Wed 28th May 2014 18:44

I think this is really good, I agree with Cynthia's comments. Thanks Jane, enjoyed the read very much.

Profile image

Cynthia Buell Thomas

Tue 27th May 2014 13:10

I think you are fabulous yourself. IMO, you have the indefinable 'touch' that separates those who record and those who reveal.

The 'subway lights ...crashing through the tunnel' metaphor is brilliant. Also 'side-tilted hat showing she was all spunk and seriousness' shows great perception and poetic skill.

Such blowsy beauty may not be an insult to grief. But your insightful point is well made. And duly noted.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message