A Poem
By H Mitchell
As sunlit sprouts yawned into maturity
Their feeble arms waving into the expanse
Of gleaming greenery dusted with dew
The milky opalescence of plump buds shone
Timidly as they opened in greeting
To the temperamental warmth of the spring sun.
It was then
On That Day
When the ambrosia
Of the burgeoning jacarandas coated
The streets aggressively and the sun winked
Suggestively until
You feel something similar to unease
That you know
You have
Felt
All along.
As the sprouts found their veined fingers
As the rose buds beamed coyly
As the jacarandas fluttered fragrantly
As if they were lilac butterflies in the breeze
As nature continued its orbit of rebirth and
growth
They found his stiff 17 year old body – a stab wound to the heart
The sun reflecting across the gash on his forehead
The grass snaking between his frozen fingers
Sticky with blood
Like an overripe pomegranate.
