WILD AZALEAS

I found the wild azaleas growing pink
as cheeks hot-flushed in fever from a cold.
I drew the water for my mother’s drink
and placed the petals in a vase of gold.
I saw her shaking hands turn pale and dry
and move along the rim of china vase,
and then extend just as in days gone by
to mine. No one can fill my mother’s place.
Please do not bring to me your roses red
nor wipe away my tears that fall in sheets
to cover her new cemetery bed.
In Heaven she now walks on golden streets
while I go down a dark and dusty trail,
in search of pink azaleas for my pail.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

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Weather Warning

 

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Weather Warning

A redbird came to eat today,
flew by the tray
of fruit and grain
as drops of rain
began to plop and plop and plop.
When each big drop
became a splash,
I heard a crash
and looked to find the bird of red
with tufted head,
escaping claws
of cat’s wet paws.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

black-cat