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It was the bloom of your soft cheeks,
flush with the enjoyment
of victory,
and your hands—those rosebud fists—
blossoming before our very eyes
to grasp the world,
and your smile, bursting bright,
a long-forgotten gift,
unearthed from the garden box
of remembering.
© 2026 Jennifer Wagner
dVerse Q: bloom
This a beautiful poem of remembrance, Jennifer...perfection!
ReplyDeleteThe single bloom of remembrance lingers in you poetry
ReplyDeleteThere's a sadness here....from soft cheeks to rosebud fists (so childlike in the description) to a bright bursting smile...and then I realize this is written in the past tense using "was" and then the "garden box of remembering".
ReplyDeleteAnd I look at the "labels" you've given your poem: bittersweet, family, fathers and sons, mothers and sons, sweet memories.....and I realize this is about loss, perhaps personal loss. Am hoping it's simply about the loss of a child through their growing up...still with us as an adult but nevermore in that sweet way of being with us over entire days of childhood.
It's a beautiful poem....I hope, if true and written from the heart, the child is now an adult rather than the sadness of grief from the terrible unspeakable loss of a passing. It is not the "natural" way of life to have a child pass before the parent. My folks felt that shock and emptiness as my brother (9 years older than me) died suddenly at 51.
Ah.....and this is what I mean about when I talk about the idea that our poem is only "ours" as we write it and as we read it to ourselves. Once we put it "out there" it becomes every other reader's poem and they connect with it in their own realm of experience.
It truly is a beautiful poem. Thank you for posting.
What beautiful memories, Jennifer, stored so lovingly, with a touch of melancholy.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful moment of reflection and remembering - full of love - Jae
ReplyDelete