Day 27 of 28 Days of Unreason
“It is life’s work to recognize the mystery of the obvious” – Jim Harrison
On her deathbed
she asked me if I had a garden,
which would’ve been funny
if the moment, permeated
with the smell of death,
hadn’t been so heart wrenching.
She knew I didn’t possess a green thumb,
that I’d killed more than one cactus,
and how I admired the many plants
and flowers that thrived under her care.
I wondered if it was the drugs
or if she’d simply had a nice dream.
Either way, something seemed to shift to a place
After the funeral, I planted forget-me-nots.
When the first tiny buds opened,
nothing could’ve been more obvious.