Blue Iris

I remember
The colors in
Our front yard
A row of
Beautiful blues
A row of
Bright yellows
The blue variety
Is the one that
Appears when
My eyes are
Closed tight
Not only
Clear images
A sweet scent
As well-grape-
By smiles
Rows of blue iris
And my Mom
Standing in
The front yard

I realize many of us are beginning to feel the chill of winter, some more than others. Yet, it seems fitting to share this poem today. I wrote this during a recent Poetry Circle with Ali Grimshaw.

Sometimes memories surface when we least expect them but right when they are needed. ❀

2 thoughts on “Blue Iris

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