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| free image from pixabay.com |
Cleaning Dandelions Out of the Iris
Satisfying snap --
trowel cuts roots below ground.
They're bound to come back.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Another poem about home. Next week at this time the family property will be on the market (mom lived there 60ish years; my brother and I grew up there). Sad to say goodbye to that old house, but excited that it will soon welcome a new family and become precious to them.
Tabatha has the roundup this week at The Opposite of Indifference. I won't be able to get the roundup schedule on the Kidlitosphere Central website for another week or two, but you can find July--December in the sidebar here at A Year of Reading.
Such a poignant poem, given the roots that you're pulling up now, as a family. Hugs, Mary Lee. Lovely that you can feel the excitement amongst the sadness.
ReplyDeleteLove your haiku, Mary Lee. The first line is especially delightful to read aloud. Thinking of you and your family as you head along this new path...
ReplyDeleteLove your haiku, Mary Lee. The first line is especially delightful to read aloud. Thinking of you and your family as you head along this new path...
ReplyDeleteOh, those pesky dandelion roots are such hardy little things! Seeing the family house as a gift to a new family reveals another deep root in you. Thinking of you as you pull pull and release.
ReplyDeleteMary Lee, the #imagepoem is a beautiful one to compliment the release of the family house to a new homebuyer family. Best of luck in this endeavor.
ReplyDeleteYour attitude is persistently sunny as a dandelion! 60 years is a long time. Best of luck to you and your family.
ReplyDeleteMay the new family treat the house well!
ReplyDeleteLovely image! Big transitions happening in your life, now, as you make a break (snap!) with the past.
ReplyDeleteThe desert is brutal this time of year, but I am thankful that dandelions don't grow in Tucson. Great poem and attitude about the prospect of selling your family home, Mary Lee. =)
ReplyDeleteEnjoy you final days at home. The memories will remain, but the stress of upkeep will be gone. Take care.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, poignant tribute to your family property, the setting of a lifetime of memories. Recently three strangers--young adults--stood on the sidewalk in front of our home, staring in familiar and loving way at our home as they talked. My husband walked down the driveway and chatted with them. They were the grandchildren of the couple who built our house and from whom we bought it when they were in their mid-nineties. We invited them in and they walked through the downstairs and basement as if it were hallowed ground (we have tried to maintain much of the original house features). They shared from their memories, and we love our house that much more for their visit. I might add that we have searched and found numerous family dwellings from generations past in our family... just for the fun of it and the connections of roots.
ReplyDeleteThis little poem is sooooo full, Mary Lee. Those roots, those memories, cannot but grow back, however sharp the snap. Thinking of you and your gate locked by morning glory.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful haiku. The sound and the feeling of that snap. it feels gone. But you know it isn't. Houses, homes hold on deep down. It will always be there.
ReplyDeleteI love that the dandelions will come back.
ReplyDeleteWeeding is one of those things that comes around again, like visiting houses of family. I'm happy that you are imagining the house full of a new family. Another circle of life.
ReplyDelete