Losing Birthdays
One of my grandmothers grew
geraniums on her front porch
for everyone strolling by in summer
to admire
My other
trained a bowered rose of palest pinks
and heaven scent
up over her back door
I was lost
This field of hay forgets
such birthdays
Blackbirds pick and pick
and ticks climb up
What good am I
at taking such things inside
These deepest loves and smallest sounds
And wherever he went my imaginary uncle
caused people to halfway grin
He was strange I am told
But people loved him anyway
for his dreamy ways
Like Johnny Appleseed who
I still believe
dropped barefoot seeds
on every spot
He could find
poor or steep
from now to then
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by Hiram Larew
©2020 Jose Alberto Canseco "Flores Etéreas No. 2," Óleo sobre tela, 130 x 200 cm, Octubre 2019
Hiram Larew's poems have appeared widely and have been nominated for four Pushcarts. His Poetry X Hunger initiative is bringing poets and poetry to the anti-hunger cause (PoetryXHunger.com). Find him on Facebook at Hiram Larew, Poet.
© 2020 West Trade Review
