1.
Born a rose
in a fallow garden,
raised a weed,
pestilence in the
flower beds.
They gave you away,
an unwanted gift,
into the open arms
of one more grateful.
She raised you
as her own,
herded you as a sheep
through the fields
of sage advice,
unable to shield you
from his bottle
or the hurt of an
almost-life.
You emerged a daisy,
yellow in the sun,
petals slightly opened,
taking it all in
but not enough
to feel the sting
of the white heat.
2.
You let them walk on you,
a crumpled leaf,
crimson in the autumn,
withered brown by spring.
You listened to them,
believed their lies,
sought love of the wrong kind.
Walled in the hospital,
sterile and white,
you ran and ran,
needle in hand,
doing what was right,
saving lives.
Scarlet and cerulean,
sirens swinging fast;
you lived for the ride,
dreading the demise.
And then you cooked,
filled the empty place
with salt and grease
and flour and sugar-
just like so-
to make a tasty treat.
You served both well,
an umbrella in a torrent,
so no-one would be drenched.
3.
You held them in weary arms,
blond hair and blue eyes,
smirking like they knew
something you didn't.
And then he left you,
didn't care enough.
You replaced him.
He was a private,
expendable. But your heart
was unmendable.
The belt hurts;
so does the fist.
Both your boys felt it,
as you did. One left it;
the other hid.
It wasn't your fault;
no-one blames you.
The fists just flew.
Until he left you.
You went through them,
again and again,
resilient as a rubber band,
snapping back up again,
almost back to normal.
And then you found him,
anything but perfect,
hoarding records and model planes,
the one most worth it.
4.
Your sons had kids,
many of them.
A gamer, an athlete,
a poet...
You collect carousels,
spinning round and round,
perfect in imperfection,
dynamic.
You re-arrange furniture,
make it better.
Things can always
be better.
5.
Your head was bald,
like your grandson at birth.
But your heart was full,
another garden,
full of violets-
your favorite flower-
and you made it through
for springs to come.
You may not know it,
but if I have a role model,
you are surely,
the only one.
You are the violet carousel
in my mirthless mall.
