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Second Bloom

The old man

A broken down factory

Sagging within the crumbled graffiti of his skin

Sits and stares out the window

An anachronism

Out of place among the smooth

Modern hospital walls

The man sits in his wheel chair

The thrown of landless kings

Carrying all the memories of his years

Like a net

Hauling in the silverfish of his stories

Though many have swam away

And in his hazy recollection

 

He remembers the feeling of bare feet

On summer grass sprinting

The shotgun of a ball exploding

From the barrel of his bat

The hush of a spring storm

As it dresses him and some lover

All the shades of wet

 

Staring out the window

The old artifact

Wiggles his proud toes

Following them back to

The night clubs in Chicago

The handshake of the president

And the feathery wings of jazz

 

In his feeble arms he catches

The kick of a rifle

The whisper of a bullet

As it reaches out to bury itself

Into the lullaby of his bones

The dirt of war in his teeth

And the smell of burning hair

 

But most of all he looks back

On the empty picture frame

The days that have blurred into

Darkness and smoke

 

What did I do on all the days

I have forgotten

This question hangs like the last petal

Still clinging to the branches

As the winter wind grows bold

 

It is unfair he thinks

And looks out among

The dogwoods in full swaying dresses

That line the hospital

 

I am a barren husk

Of bark and bone

But this world blooms so brilliant

 

Lean back in his chair

The old man thinks

I am so happy I got to see

The trees laughing with the wind one last time

And smiles like a toothless sunset

His soul swallowing and swelling

On all the beauty he has ever gathered

Behind the cameras of his eyes

So full of life that he can no longer hide it inside of him

It must go dance with the blossoms

 

When the nurse found him

The tears had not dried off his cheek

His mouth frozen into a smile

Like a sunbeam burning through the clouds

A single dogwood flower folded in his fingers

 

As she looked upon the hallelujah of his death

She wondered

What secrets did you take with you

You old geezer

What was so beautiful

You smiled so hard your heart broke

When you saw the other side

Did it have dogwoods

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Written by
eliot-greene
American
Published
Dec 24, 2013
Lines·Words
74·417
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