"In The Middle Of A Flower" - Poem By: Heather Whitley Gibson

 

an argument
in the middle of a flower
pouring cold – water Onto
something that grows
clearing up that glass
none less the
dangles on none
and lines, cheekbones
trying to see
hooking, polishing
new leaves backwards
pretty outside – inside
dis-guarding
it’s dying parts
windows bought
then leaned against
the pier
honing in the, clarity
from forms fired from
readjusting prescriptions
just struggling to organize
it’s growth
against bones bent
crawls and bends
threw holes and ties
creating, making it’s stoplights
comfortably thwarts beautification
with worms that crawl
threw stitching underneath soil
muddying things
seeing unknown things
redundant
overseen in photos (so synthetic)
lovely things overheard
adjusting redundant things
in growth
like the neck of a vase
the center of the flower
stares in it’s own way
with you, as
tymes narrow under sunlight
an argument
in the middle of a flower

 

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