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A Wilted Garden

visiting the darker places
no one lingers
not on purpose; not them nor I
tending the wilted flowers
on autumn's doorstep; yet a welcome breeze
 
learning the embrace,
the lull, the sting
not on purpose; if only one time
to hold a rose's thorn
 
awake, walking the softer sands
the homeward journey
awarding a quiet reprieve
behold another artist, like me
dripping color on the canvas  
brushing a yellow dawn
over distant, turbulent waters
painting death; yet a calming end
not on purpose
nor the darkest dream
russell_snow
Written by russell_snow
Published
Author's Note
Inspired by Louise Glück's darker themes and the particular poems I enjoyed: The Wild Iris, Anniversary (1966), The Egg, Dead End, and Grandmother in the Garden; found on...
Inspired by Louise Glück's darker themes and the particular poems I enjoyed: The Wild Iris, Anniversary (1966), The Egg, Dead End, and Grandmother in the Garden; found on poetryfoundation.org

This is by far the darkest and less rhyming of anything I have previously published. I realize that Glück's writing is more direct and free flowing sentences, but the direction that this poem took while I was writing and editing did not work with that type of style. Therefore I kept it truer to myself with a different slant.
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