Spider lilies brown, unfurling like crows lifting from a branch
in driveway light.
I knew mom would be late,
could feel it as I held dad, restless
in my arms, promise evaporated
before it left my mouth.
Weeks later in SoKo these same lilies bloom
as I rot quietly in bed
and make room for compost.
I think of how mom’s face looked
the day she died,
a memory now softening
under this empty sky.
I was told by a medium I knew her in several lifetimes
before this one, but now
it’s just spider lilies
and the sense
that my parents are missing
from the room.
I asked for a sign last June,
questioned my fragile life,
and now the lilies bloom
without pause, feeling
no different for the loss.
Beautiful.
❤️
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