More than the words on the page
trying to bring them there
the moment in my hushed office
feeling her presence there
“Daddy”, she breathed, shewhispered,
“these are for you”,
turning to see her gift, focusing,
coming into view
A single hand holding
the treasure from her room
little soft white rose petals
brought for me to keep
Her hand like a fine crystal bowl
cupped not to hold them too tight
not wanting to crush the paper
the delicate skin of the flower
Giving them to me effortlessly
yet slowly they fell to the desk
tumbling, yes, yet in a strange staccato
singly dancing to the surface
coming to their rest/
May 19, 2010
about describing the layers of meaning
of this poem as part of
May 19, 2010 poetry presentation in
Mrs. Proulx’s Second Grade class
Pembroke Hill School
- the image of her hand acting like a cup,
- how she held the petals in her hand,
- the suppleness of the petals, and
- the way they poured out of her hand not even
like water, but with a hesitation, or delay
almost not wanting to leave the warmth of her hand
---------------
Baby Rose Petals
Cupped in her hand
offered for me
baby rose petals
from the remains of the bouquet
poured out
tumbling onto my desk
May 12, 2010
from Shyanne this morning
6:53am
Copyright by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010. Contact me at Ray Foss
for usage.
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