Category: red

"because a red geranium has blossomed open." Carilda Olivar Labra

Grandma's red roses nest my earliest memories
of sisters and me seated beneath fragrant blooms,
white trellis a backdrop for Polaroid images now faded with a time

when Grandma sat and enjoyed evening's breeze
while we balanced blocks sky high, tested sidewalk's freedom
in front of her small red house, unsuccessfully tried
to quiet childish country voices.

Earthy and safe was the scent of her yard, clothes wrung
and hung on t-post line, grass tickled bare feet
as we picked cherries from gnarled trees; impatiently waited
for warm tart pies with buttery crust.

***

Drove by her house long after she'd passed, years after I'd married.
Gone, the splash of reds which made Grandma's house stand out.
Had to circle 'round twice to be sure.

To this day wish I had a green thumb; thank heaven
for my hardy scalloped lace-leaved flowers that last
all summer long, give me that dash of color I'll always crave.

by Margaret Bednar, 02/09/2015