Bullrush


A stand of cattails, brown heads

erupting seed,

silk tufts unfolding

from coarse velvet. I stopped

and studied them while all my friends walked on

except

for one who lingered, agitated,

and watched me watching, her palms locked on her elbows,

her body bent.

“You can’t write about them,”

she said.

“I saw them first.”

But who am I

to tell this story, who am I

when I remember

stopping in mid-kiss, half our buttons

half-

unbuttoned,

and telling another poet,

“I don’t want to read about this …

4 comments on “Bullrush”

  1. Interesting words to accompany this image. I love cattails. You have a nice low vantage point.

  2. You have so many nice poems to go whit your photos! Gives a different way of seeing the image, before and after reading your poems!Great – Thanks!!

  3. I’m being a Saturday night, night owl. Cattails are always so eye catching. Fantastic photo.:-)

  4. absolutely love this image and the poetry just adds the finishing touch to everything you do!! This one was my favorite. Not that I am a big fan of cattails but I love pictures and mostly poets poetry.

So... What do ya think?

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