i.
they'd chirp an angry siren
from bramble round the chain
link fence that flanks
the tiny country cemetery
their peace disturbed
as I lumber toward my
sister's grave
shushing as I go
ii.
they'd anchor my grandmother's
beautiful fushia and soft pink peony bushes
standing guard between the steep hill
and wild flower garden 'neath
her big picture window with their own special perch
where they'd alight, along with the others
abiding in flowering forsythia
and lilac hedges
if memories were sparrows
they'd assemble with finches
outside my window
boisterously chirping
on snow covered lilacs
waiting impatiently for turn at seed
whispering to each other of
Gramma's persistent insistence for me to dig up
a few of those peony bushes
to plant here in the yard of my (then) new home
if only I had listened
ignored busyness
and thoughts of ants amuck in my car
or later, remembered her request
before the house sold and I could no longer
go back with shovel in hand
if memories were sparrows
they'd now be resting dormant
waiting for spring
instead
only her desire to share them with me
lives with my ache of memory
These poems are a response to the challenge in L.L. Barkat's post The Great Poem Caper. Some of the entries have been published at High Calling Blogs' RAP: Poem Play.
