Mid-Life (It's About Damn Time)

My crisis began
years ago, when I was made
into a topiary girl

with well concealed roots
false flowers in place
of where real ones used to grow.

There is no crisis
in finally showing
all my gnarls and bumps
and in owning the colors
that were always mine.

This is healing.

Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem is linked to the Friday Writings post at Poets and Storytellers United.

Grasses and Dandelions (Why Not Both?)

What if you asked why
all front lawns should be only green
at minimum? Questioned

why even the hint of shape
of dandelion leaves are unwelcome?

What if you let that dandelion bloom?
What if you didn’t pinch off its head
because you were embarrassed

by its brazen color
announcing itself as something other
than the green surrounding it,
right in front of the neighbors?

What if you stopped pretending
nature could be forced
to betray its own wild
and grow in only one over-particular way?

What if instead of ripping out
everything that didn't look 
like your neighbor's yard,
you let what wanted to grow
just grow?

Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the Friday Writings prompt given at Poets and Storytellers United, Genuine Ink.


I hated my hair
when I was little. Like you,
I tried to daydream it away
along with other awkward realities.

Irrepressible Anne-girl, I too was
more at home protected by fancies

spun from the scent of lilacs,
storms of cherry blossoms,
and iris leaf swords.

We both grasped for the words
true enough to make sense
of the world’s horror and wonder,

and made up fairy tales
sturdy enough to nourish
all our explosions
of feeling and imagination.

Megan Follows from the 80's Anne of Green Gables mini-series

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for the Friday Writings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United, Beloved Books. I chose to write about Anne of Green Gables.