ON THE DAY MY MOTHER’S NINETY-SIX DAFFODILS BLOOMED
A reminiscence of departed love,
a sweet regretful power,
the splendor bright of that display,
a lute, a drum, a flower.
Within us is a universe as well.
And limitless are leaves,
stiff or drooping in the fields,
the golden eternity of blissful safety,
… the shade of my mother,
After such great wonder,
let the field be joyful and all that is therein
live for generations without any help from us.
Other eyes will see the spring.
What I have seen is unsurpassable.
Poem Note: All lines in the cento are the 96th line, or from a 96th poem in a long series, from poets such as Thomas Cole, The Pearl Poet, Ginsburg, Dante, and others.
Diane Kendig’s five poetry collections include Prison Terms, and she co-edited the anthology In the Company of Russell Atkins. She has published poetry and prose in journals such as J Journal, Under the Sun, and Ekphrasis. She curates “Read + Write: 30 Days of Poetry,” now with over 2200 subscribers.
Link to: dianekendig.com