She spoke to me
of roses and
little birds in
her garden–
this woman who
does not know
where she is
or why…she
kept tracing the
long curved line
from her forehead
to the base of
her skull with
fingers, the
sutures come out
I listened close-
made mental notes-
about putting oak
leaves around the
crown in the fall
and what type of
seed the grackles
won’t steal. whole.
she is whole in
the flowers. she is
whole for a moment.
she is


  1. says

    Do you wonder (I suddenly do) what it is that would give you that place of “whole” on the day you did not know where you were or why?

    I plan to wonder that a while now, until I find it.

  2. says

    Sobbing. Waterfall drenched. Aaahh Laura my dear girl. This I know. You caught me off guard, Words of life where it seems words of death should be. Could you serve kleenex next time?

  3. says

    nice, I liked “she is/whole” strong. Thanks for visiting my blogsite. I am new to blogging and my computer doesn’t like tspoetry so Barbie poem came in a little late. Been reading High Calling Blog posts for a while but still just getting my sea legs in this type of community. Liked your red balloon post too.

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