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Little Willow [userpic]

Poetry Friday: The Flower Press by Chelsea Woodard

November 30th, 2018 (06:00 am)
curious

Current Mood: curious
Current Song: Like I Did by Leadley

It was the sort of thing given to little girls:
sturdy and small, round edged, wooden and light.
I stalked the pasture's rough and waist-high grass
for worthy specimens: the belle amid the mass,
the star shaming the clouds of slighter,
ordinary blooms. The asters curled

inside my sweat-damp palms, as if in sleep. Crushed
in the parlor's stifling heat, I pried
each shrinking petal back, and turned the screws.
But flowers bear no ugly bruise,
and even now fall from the brittle page, dried
prettily, plucked from memory's hush.

- The Flower Press by Chelsea Woodard

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Comments

Posted by: Michelle Kogan (Michelle Kogan)
Posted at: November 30th, 2018 06:06 am (UTC)

Beautiful poem, I like all the detail in it and the moment she takes us on, thanks!

Posted by: Little Willow (slayground)
Posted at: November 30th, 2018 02:26 pm (UTC)

Me too!

Posted by: mlyearofreading (mlyearofreading)
Posted at: December 2nd, 2018 12:13 pm (UTC)

I pressed many flowers in my childhood, but usually in the Sears or Wards catalogs!

Posted by: Little Willow (slayground)
Posted at: December 2nd, 2018 04:15 pm (UTC)
books

🌼🌺💮

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