The Bold and the Beautiful

rudbeckia bud


I view you with scorn.

Pitiful, I label. Naive beyond belief.

Do you not feel it in your bones,

this Frost creeping, cadaverous

mongrel, seeking your flesh?

No one who knows what

Saskatchewan winter can accomplish

would proffer innocent bud,

sacrificial lamb to ego’s altar.

Or do you know exactly what you offer?

Scorn spars with Pity,

until a third enters the ring –


Do you bloom in spite, or to spite?

Death may just be the mother of

all necessary re-invention,

the Holy Grail to this Holocaust.

I see.

I know.

Tears trace my ruptures,

draining immature ideas,

congregating on your petals

where they christen you




24 comments on “The Bold and the Beautiful

  1. Caddo says:

    Ah yes, boldness–a necessity in any season/weather.

  2. Gallivanta says:

    Is this little one actually attempting to bloom? Bold indeed if it is!

  3. Well, winter sure is bold without mercy or regret. As bold as bold can be, I’ve seen some little grasses/flowers poke their tiny heads out during the coldest of winters and I always wonder how these things survive.

  4. I really like this one. Saskatchewan winters! Oh yeah, well do I know! I finished my undergrad degree at Providence near Winnipeg…winter. I’m still cold from it.

  5. Spiritually speaking ~to me, I see these images & acts in a natural process of ordinances that promise a crown. I know, I’m weird~ Faithfully Debbie

  6. Wonderful – at so many levels!

  7. This one really made me smile – from the first scorn-filled glance at her petals – how dare she?! 😉

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