Saucer Magnolia

07 Mar Saucer Magnolia

We’ll watch the flowers wilt and wither from the window

After dinner on Sunday, our day of rest, 
you felt the baby kick for the first time.
My head on your chest, hand pressed against 
my belly. Callused palm, devotion worn on 
your skin. Proof of your labor – two years 
of work on the house you grew up in.

It’s March. Outside the front window, pink 
goblet-shaped flowers are blooming on the tree. 
Perhaps preparing to catch the tears I’ll shed 
when you leave. Planted by your father 
after you were born, it’s watched over this home
through every sunrise and every storm.

In fourteen days, you’ll be deployed. They called 
last night. Off to fight in a war we don’t support. 
I’ll wait for your return, my forever. Patiently,
telling our son stories of his father’s bravery.
We’ll watch the flowers wilt and wither from
the window. And if you die, I’ll tape your bones 
to the tree.

Many thanks to the son of for the amazing quote that inspired this one (the last sentence of the poem). Process notes can be found here.