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Tara Marie
Poems
Jan 2017
dried rosebuds
7 little mason jars
in a sequenced line
filled with 7 spices
displayed much like a shrine
I thought I'd have a use for them
to steep myself some tea,
yet they have remained stagnant
on this wall, they stare at me
one contains dried rosebuds
pink and red and pale
confined within a little jar
their fragrance growing stale
another holds some cardamom
and one is filled with cloves
slowly drying on this shelf,
labeled and enclosed
someone picked these rosebuds,
and dried all of these leaves
so they could sit within a jar
with nothing to achieve
tonight these 7 mason jars
all look at me, so somber
their families enjoyed a breeze,
had sun-soaked days to squander
they've not reached expiration
yet soon, they'll be disposed
no longer trapped in bottles
in death, they'll be exposed.
Sometimes simple gazes at simple things make me think about abstract things.
Written by
Tara Marie
Illinois
(Illinois)
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