Losing Birthdays

One of my grandmothers grew
     geraniums on her front porch
     for everyone strolling by in summer 
     to admire
My other 
     trained a bowered rose of palest pinks
     and heaven scent 
     up over her back door
I was lost

This field of hay forgets
       such birthdays 
Blackbirds pick and pick
      and ticks climb up
What good am I 
       at taking such things inside
These deepest loves and smallest sounds

And wherever he went my imaginary uncle
      caused people to halfway grin
He was strange I am told
But people loved him anyway
      for his dreamy ways
Like Johnny Appleseed who 
      I still believe
     dropped barefoot seeds
     on every spot
He could find
      poor or steep
      from now to then

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by Hiram Larew
​ ©2020  Jose Alberto Canseco                                                                                                       "Flores Etéreas No. 2," Óleo sobre tela, 130 x 200 cm, Octubre 2019
IG:  @jose-alberto-conseco
Hiram Larew's poems have appeared widely and have been nominated for four Pushcarts. His Poetry X Hunger initiative is bringing poets and poetry to the anti-hunger cause (PoetryXHunger.com). Find him on Facebook at Hiram Larew, Poet.


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