The Land of Saw Blade Flowers
When things go right in the Land of Saw Blade Flowers,
lightning bugs pour from saw horses,
string themselves above the deck
and disappear on the heel of the last shoe off.
When things go right in the Land of Saw Blade Flowers,
eyes like knives bite sharp on the task,
google around, spin to rest,
and sit with a cold beer softening off.
When things go right in the Land of Saw Blade Flowers,
fresh cut grass gets sucked into night,
makes a point; blossoms with talk.
Hard work pays off.
Amy Cunningham 2017
4 thoughts on "The Land of Saw Blade Flowers"
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Your repeating first line and your images, mixed unexpectedly and quite new, slow down the reader (at least me) to ponder what just happened…
Beautiful, vivid images that seem to flow freely from the heart. There’s a gracefulness in this poem that makes it a joy to read!
the parents of a student I taught had a yard full of saw blade flowers painted like a tropical forest that bloomed all year, it was fanciful and full of hope even though dad had a hard time keeping a job
I pictured real saw blades and bugs made from real lightening. Everything dangerous and pointy. Blossoms was a soft, unanticipated word