Trapped In Honey Jars

April 15, 2011
Every time she opens her lips
Out pops a rare flower
No roses or daisies
Only Columbian petunias and voodoo lilies
Childhood imagination clouds what memories
I’ve been able to keep
Each one of her,
even more magical than the rest
They are kept from destruction because of
My many honey jars
Filled to the tip
With all the flowers she left.





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