Friday, April 7, 2017

Peace Lily: a poem

Once the ribbons rimmed the room,
trophies crowded the crow skull
and pickled fish.
Certificates of accomplishment
blazed behind fake-stone frames,
report cards magnet-trapped to the frig.
Now,
nothing on the shelf except
the single Peace Lily,
new leaf twisting into being,
single white bloom
hooding and shy
breathes oxygen into the room

where I slumber.

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