Spiraea Song

Spiraea’s blossom’s waning,
Fragile white, blanket lawn;
The neighbours haven’t stopped complaining
Since they died aged 84.
I too have lived as annual witness
To lanceolate billowed hope,
Each one just the petal’s business
To spiral over lower slopes.
Death cafés proliferate,
It started in the wi-fi;
They submerged a coastal town as bait
For a Goddess of the Magpie.
Spiraea’s blossom’s waning,
To thrive again next Spring;
If I survive the monsoon raining
I would dance with you, and sing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s