Posted tagged ‘Wisteria is not limited to women’


April 11, 2014



Wisteria is what I feel
when wistfulness, steamed and congealed,
clusters in its grape-bunched flowers
redolent of bygone hours–
times life was pink (or lavender)
and certainty sure provender–
like clover for the honey bee,
my future then so matched to me.

But on time’s wingéd chariot
came self-doubt with a lariat
lassoing me with slipknot noose
never truly letting loose;
the blossoms that once seemed so pink
turned filmy in the kitchen sink;
the lavender that paled the buds
washed paler still in wilted suds.

Now, when the horses that keep guard
of the wingéd chariot’s yard
o’errun the gate, tromp down the hay,
let acceptance sneak a holiday–
oh, then, wisteria flowers afresh
perfuming with sweet bitter breath,
and I regret and I reform
until those horses fly me home.


Here’s a very strange poem for the 11th day of National Poetry Month and Hannah’s prompt on With Real Toads about Wisteria. Neither of the above or below pics is truly of wisteria!  (But maybe close enough!)