Poem: Speaker to the Dead

This poem was originally presented at the open mic portion of the Word to Word poetry event at the Gather Community Space in Wilkes-Barre, PA on July 12, 2024. It was written June 22, 2024, with minor revisions July 10, 2024.

Speaker to the Dead

Go tell the bees

whisper to the clouds

speak to the rocks in deep tones

sing to the flowers

whistle to the birds

shout to the rain as it falls around you

carve the words into your heart in letters of fire

they will hear

they will know

and if you listen, very closely,

to the wind, to the rain, the hum of the bees, the songs of the birds

you will hear them

you will hear them

In memoriam

I took advantage of the somewhat-more-bearable temperatures today - mid-eighties instead of high eighties - to do some garden work. Today that meant attacking the rosebushes and removing both dead branches and things that are not roses growing in with the roses - Rose of Sharon, blackberries, and a few other things. Unfortunately with my first cut I managed to take out a stem of a Double Delight covered with roses and rosebuds. (Don't worry, there are dozens more.) I decided I would use these pruned flowers as a decoration at the cemetery. I grabbed an old relish jar, filled it with water, and clipped the blossoms and buds to an appropriate length. I did the same with a single Blaze rose, and multiple Royal Highness specimens.

Roses at the cemetery. Blaze is the light red in the center, Royal Highness is light pink. Double Delight is the mostly dark-red rose seen on the sides

Double Delight is supposed to have a cream center, but mine do not

Royal Highness, a pretty rose with a great scent