THE SCENT OF IRIS
The iris I took
from Mom's garden
are blooming now.
Their heady scent
keeps me company
as I weed and plant in my own garden.
Mom left behind iris
that grow and bloom far away
from their original garden
and she left behind me
growing and blooming far away
from my original home
breathing in the scent of iris
with tears running down my face
as I weed and plant in my own garden.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2018
Thank you to Margaret Simon for organizing a photo/poem swap for today, and thank you to Joyce Ray for the iris photo. I can't wait to see what she does with the one I sent her!
You can see all the photo/poem swaps at Margaret's Reflections on the Teche, because she has the roundup this week!
That's a lovely poem. It reminds me of a blue hibiscus that is a remembrance of my father.
ReplyDeleteLovely, Mary Lee. Your poem resonates with me. Iris remind me of my mom. As a girl I weeded them in her garden. Now I weed them in mine. I love the circular feel of your poem... like life.
ReplyDeleteMay the flowers bring you happy memories, and new stories.
ReplyDeletePassings and cycles are heavy on my mind this week too, really for the first time. This poem is both careful and powerful in the way it communicates the length and depth of grief.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and poignant poem. I think of my mom when I see orchids . . .
ReplyDeleteGreat.
ReplyDeleteMary Lee, this is a keeper poem for me. Iris was my grandmother's flower. My mother and her sister hadn't talked for years after a bitter falling out. At my mother's funeral, my aunt brought Iris for my mother's casket. I cannot see Iris without seeing my family and the healing of that deep, deep blue. Thank you for such a lovely poem to pair with that photograph.
ReplyDeleteIris grow wild where we are but often they are transplanted from one place to another. This poem is such a sad reminder of how grief works. It can catch you even when gardening, or maybe especially so. Thanks for being a part of the poetry/ photo exchange. Such rich poetry offerings today!
ReplyDeleteMary Lee, we had dinner on my patio last night and my husband noticed a beautiful long stem purple flower growing. It was an iris and it made my day. Your poem is a reflective one that made me think back to my own mother who also left me behind. In your crafting of this beautiful poem, a grieving sigh is evident but the scent of the iris allows for hope to be awakened. Once again I thank you for the embrace hope items that warm my days. I look forward to reading Joyce's poem with your photo. Kay McGriff and I were partners and we truly enjoyed the exchange.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a beautiful poem, Mary Lee. I'm coming to appreciate (?) that life is really a celebration of the blooming in the midst of carrying the grief of loss. Thanks for sharing your lovely poem--it will linger with me.
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful, Mary Lee. Your mom would love this poem. (I know my mom would.) Hugs to you.
ReplyDeleteThe iris in Colorado are in full bloom. And now every time I think of them, I will think of this beautiful poem, and you, an Ohio transplant, with deep Colorado roots, grown and tended by loving hands.
ReplyDeleteI love your poem, Mary Lee. I do have flowers from my mother-in-law's garden - bearded iris, lily of the valley and forget-me-nots. And I think of her each time they bloom. I think the repetitive lines contribute to the circular feel that Alice mentioned and the cycles which Heidi pointed out. The way you have crafted this poem is masterful. It is truly beautiful.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous poem, Mary Lee. This is such a powerful image of connection between you and your mother.
ReplyDeleteI have peonies gifted from a neighbor's garden. She died several years ago (in her 30s, breast cancer). Every time the plants bloom, they remind me of her.
I love this poem, Mary Lee. Poignant. Roses remind me of my father.
ReplyDeleteLovely, Mary Lee. I never realized iris have a scent. I will have to find a garden where iris are growing and see if I can bend over to catch a whiff (without falling).
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, Mary Lee. Comforting and heart-tugging at the same time. And quite a contrast to the photo you sent Joyce, I might add. ;)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem. Sometimes the smallest of things can bring the strongest response.
ReplyDeleteSo lovely!
ReplyDeleteSo intimate and powerful, Linda - thank you for sharing. What wonderful poems these photos have brought about! Also, what Michelle said....;0)
ReplyDelete