The bones of June lie in July’s field—
lily petals brown like parchment
upon which solstice’s demise is writ,
spiderwort’s slender leaves
lying on ground & burnt by sun,
creeping phlox bloom-dry & brittle
& fading at the edges. Bury them,
I tell you, bury them beneath the broad
red leaves of cranberry hibiscus,
the pleated fronds of black-eyed Susan’s,
the sturdy stems of sunflowers-to-be.
They know their seasons, their months
in the calendar of seed & root & light
& bow gracefully, all of them, to grassy
ground & sleep. They will wake in May
one leaf at a time, stretch, unfurl, torpedo-
wrapped petals yawn to reveal centers
bright with goldfinch pistil & tiger stamen,
teach you to bury the daunting skeleton
of your own past under a new verdancy
of sinew-root, stem-vein, leaf-palm,
rising to steeple-stigma raging under a sky
the color of mountain bluets & sown
with clouds like blazing daisies.
You will learn the fecundity of bones.
I especially like the hyphenated adjectives and the ending line of this lush poem, Taunja!
Wow- the spring/ summer flower transition is beautiful and then this- and the last line.
teach you to bury the daunting skeleton …
Thank you, Julia!