Evening rides across the sky

with the last streaks of light

trailing golden, same as the cover

where Rapunzel’s hair flames the ether

as she gallops with her prince

into the dusk of blue  fairytales.


You read me that book on nights

when darkness fell early and trees

gave a leafless nod to the wind.

I hungered more for words

than the pop-up magic of pictures.

Rampion  struck my mind

with its syllabic ring; and you said a radish

her mother craved growing in the witch’s garden,

tangled and forbidden.


Yet,  I assumed more. A charmed plant

that grew the girl’s hair a tower’s length

and sweetened her voice with soft arias.

Now you lie towered in hospice

6 floors up, hungering to enter another garden.

I want to feed you rampion

to slow the heart with song, ( a hymn on your lips)

and turn your silver strands into a  current

that carries the hour softly.


Your husband waiting in the dawn.



  1. Hi Mark

    Thanks so much for commenting on my poem! I really appreciate it. This is an older one written back in 2016 when my mom was in hospice. She passes several days later after this was written.

    My best


  2. Dear Sarah, Cubby, Dirtysoft and the traveler;

    Thank you all so much for reading my work and letting me know you liked it! I appreciate your interest in my poems and am glad my work appeals!

    My best


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