It's Hard to Kill an Aspidistra

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Mon, 18 Jan 2016
  • 1434 reads
8 comments
 
Iron Plant – its nickname.  Almost
impossible to kill, but you managed it
in one fell swoop; unless it learned
to swim, it never stood a whisper
of a chance...
 
Countless things I’ll remember of you...
that impish look – fresh from a shower 
as I wrapped you in a towel; your head
all shouldered and shy...and how
your eyes lit up when I brought you
breakfast in bed...the day I got the date
wrong...thinking it was your birthday,
and you kissed me – said it kind of was
and I could do it again, when I liked.
 
How – the week you passed your test,
you backed out of our drive...left
a neighbour’s new Mercedes, somewhat 
modified. How good an artist you were; 
one day, who knows, there might be a craze
for off-kilter rainbows. 
 
How you loved your garden. An orange tree
you fertilised by hand with a tiny, sable brush, 
and I noted how good you were at playing 
birds and bees, and how we made it a first
in the greenhouse...cramped, though it was 
and how you blushed from then on
if you met the man next door.
 
The day you mowed a rat; a dead one, I hasten
to add.  Out of sight, out of mind, your philosophy...
until the mower broke, and it was down to me 
to fix it, and man – how that mower stank. The chick
you tore from the paws of our cat – cupped 
in your hands like a solemn prayer.
 
Diagnosed with Parkinson’s at only fifty,
you dried my tears with your sleeve; got me
a T-shirt – said, ‘Speedy Gonzalez’, mocking
my well-worn quip, “Sorry it’s taking so long,
but I don’t do quick!” Our late daughter’s
Celebration of Life...returning from the church
the cows crossing the road, and you told 
an awful joke about the ‘udder side’, 
but it made us laugh...until we cried.... 
 
So much I might have written, but never
found the time.  Couldn’t see for looking 
what was underneath my nose, so...
for what it’s worth, this is your story. 
The one I never wrote.
Certificate PG
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
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Comments

Submitted by celticman on

I thought it would be about an aspidistra (cf George Orwell or was it Graham Greenfinger?) Udderly ridiculous but a more colourful place for that. Home grown.  

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

'Keep the aspidistra flying'...at all costssmiley  About says is all, I thinkwink

 

 

Submitted by rainingalloverthesky on

This is so incredibly heartfelt. It sort of wrapped its fingers around my neck and choked me. In a good way; if there was ever such a way.

beautiful

-pklg-

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Gosh, 154...hope you've got your breath back nowsmiley Very many thanks.

Tina

 

Submitted by rainingalloverthesky on

Just about, thanks!

-pklg-

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Goodsmiley

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

yes, it's the over-watering that does it isn't it - like smother-love?? I forget and then overdo.

You capture longterm closeness in delightful ways. It is him speaking of you, isn't it? Once or twice, I wasn't sure which way it was, but I think it probably doesn't matter in a way! Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

You are totally correct in your assumption, Rhiannon.  Well spottedsmiley But, as you say, either way it is immaterial.

Tina