Lingering Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden Portland, Oregon I don’t remember why I paused. Might have been to catch my breath on the uphill path or to grab a last panoramic shot of rhodies and azaleas astonishing in whites/ pinks/purples/yellows/blues. I had five goslings on my mind–– golden innocence paddling across the spring-fed lake–– not to mention waterfalls tucked with curated randomness around the garden’s edge. Might be why I didn’t see the child skipping up the slope or the mother unscrewing the mason jar. Only this: a stunned monarch–– shocked by how freedom felt–– spreading wings––royally–– on a rhodie’s violet bloom. As if grateful for the sun and my awe-filled stare, it posed for two dozen clicks, waiting for the future to appear. It approved, as it folded up its wings, the art of standing still.
Blissfully retired in Clackamas, OR, Carolyn Martin is a lover of gardening and snorkeling, feral cats and backyard birds, writing and photography. Her poems have appeared in more than 175 journals throughout North America, Australia, and the UK. For more: www.carolynmartinpoet.com.
Amethyst Review 