In the florists I floated a hand over the heads of the callas like a cleric blessing the harvest butter, gold and bumblebee yet such associations are mere contrivance we can never quite locate the adjective where sight and sensation come together in this instance perhaps the word is Surprise! he arriving all aglow with a pot of solar flares telepathic, the same wavelength of yellow light xanthous zantedeschia lilies yelling birthday greetings from smooth, curled lips and all that has gone now another mid-summer memory yellowing further and further still from youth he is elsewhere, not far, but the callas stay on in their blue bowl, brite lime now or chartreuse or some such word for happy and faded
Planting this poem in the Imaginary Garden’s Mid Week prompt: Going, going gone
PoetryPix 
Lime or chartreuse or some such word for happy and faded…makes sense only in the context of yellow flowers, and I can see the flowers in my mind.
they are very visual!
what a remarkable opening 3 lines – stunning for the startling idea – and I love it! This certainly paints a really clear image … I really like how you’ve taken this moment and transcribed it, – the idea of presiding over, like a cleric – and the sensuousness of Callas – it’s really amazing, and fascinating.
And “he’s arriving all aglow with a pot of solar flares” – oh, this is most special …
This is a wonderful piece, alive and vibrant, for the play of a scene, independent, and then the memories, and the meeting, and then, of course, the absence.
Absolutely fresh perspective!
the depth and breadth of your feedback is really appreciated pat – shows how much you have read the poem – so thank you!
my pleasure 🙂
I do like the last few lines of this. Memories fading like leaves or flowers.
that would be the autumnal bit you like 😉
Yes, I was also struck by the last line. A wonderful (wonder full) poem.
thank you for the fullness of wonder Annell ( how often we use that term without being aware of its full meaning!)
The opening lines are stunning, Laura. I know what you mean in the lines:
‘we can never quite locate the adjective
where sight and sensation come together’.
What struck me was the zing in the second stanza:
‘he arriving all aglow with a pot of solar flares
telepathic, the same wavelength of yellow light
xanthous zantedeschia lilies
yelling birthday greetings from smooth, curled lips’
which fades away in the final stanza:
‘another mid-summer memory yellowing’.
thank you for your astute observations Kim I had not quite appreciated the zing of the 2nd verse (though was pleased to find xanthous) but now I see how much it contrasts and fades with the final verse – just as intended!
🙂
Awww—so sweet. Really lovely. K.
many thanks
What a glorious write telling of the pain of years, clinging on to memories, while the years come and go.
can be viewed that way allegorically though it was more prosaic being a recent birthday gift of yellow callas aka xanthous zantedeschia lilies. Bit of a mouthful that!
That hand hovering over the callas is so vivid. A pleasure to read this poem.
many thanks Sherry for a very nice comment – the yellow of the callas was so glorious – could almost have warmed my hands on it
I love how you saw the transition of going in the flowers… you and Toni seem to have had similar thoughts.
Toni is an autumn lover – I pine for summer though less so now I’m much older – this was a recent passing moment
This sings to me of the passing of youth- once bright, now happy and faded. Truly stunning piece Laura.
Each birthday takes me further from youth but even this recent birthday gift is fading!
Yes, for me as well.
“Exactly!” was what I thought when I read ‘we can never quite locate the adjective
where sight and sensation come together’
it could be the holy grail of writing but maybe there is no mot just after all
A nice wrap up for this lovely poem.
he is elsewhere, not far, but the callas stay on
in their blue bowl, brite lime now or chartreuse
or some such word for happy and faded
thank you Ali – wistful but no unhappy ending here