here among the sacrificed.... a poem

Forget-me-nots

Here among the sacrificed

The beautiful and the yellowed

Still grow the roses

They are growing alright,

In back alleys and down railroad ballast

Forget-me-nots, there are forget-me-nots

Growing behind red brick walled dive bars

Wilting over late autumn versions of the blues

Here among the abandoned

The lonely and the blue eyes

Still grow the roses

There are roses in Old Weller bottles

Daffodils in bar pint glasses

There are cracked seeds

Caked on the bottoms of hiking boots

Pacing downtown streets looking for

Forget-me-nots and roses

Primroses

In smiles and chapped lips….

It’s a sad one, a bittersweet poem… loneliness and forget-me-nots… I think it might have been a poem to Denver as much as it was to anyone in particular.  I just finished revising it.  Its one of those I revisit again and again, at least the first stanza is something I have used and abused again and again, its one of my favorite beginnings to a poem I have come up with… one I will always come back to.  I like this version, there are other versions that are up there, but this one I keep revising hoping to one day reach perfection, maybe my place in the breath of poetry’s influence on peoples imagination and ears.  Who knows…

Solidarity fellow workers, ride free, ride fast, live slowly and with purpose.

Your faithful Muskrat.