While watering my neighbours garden (springtime in Toronto Ontario), I noticed this lovely little pink and white flower shining up through the undergrowth of hostas and other plants under a tree…it looked like it might be related to Geraniums so I titled it as such… it seemed to call for a looser impressionistic interpretation, so I did just that…
Watercolour on Handmade Paper…
This is a riot of a poem that will make you laugh, if it doesn’t make you cry..how many of us have one lonely Geranium in a pot on a windowsill.. it is called "Geranium"
When I put her out, once, by the garbage pail,
She looked so limp and bedraggled,
So foolish and trusting, like a sick poodle,
Or a wizened aster in late September,
I brought her back in again
For a new routine—
Vitamins, water, and whatever
Sustenance seemed sensible
At the time: she’d lived
So long on gin, bobbie pins, half-smoked cigars, dead beer,
Her shriveled petals falling
On the faded carpet, the stale
Steak grease stuck to her fuzzy leaves.
(Dried-out, she creaked like a tulip.)
The things she endured!
The dumb dames shrieking half the night
Or the two of us, alone, both seedy,
Me breathing booze at her,
She leaning out of her pot toward the window.
Near the end, she seemed almost to hear me—
And that was scary—
So when that snuffling cretin of a maid
Threw her, pot and all, into the trash-can,
I said nothing.
But I sacked the presumptuous hag the next week,
I was that lonely. Theodore Roethke
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