Her trash on the porch
caught my eye.
Purple petals turning mauve,
mixed with rust orange and red
in a surround of deep mist hides
fields and front range.
She’s been throwing out, giving away
for months preparing her transition
from bushel baskets, waxed
Away from closet filled rooms,
oils, pastels and sculptured peasant faces.
Today she came across games her
late husband made up: hand size
laminated photo art of Monet, Seurat,
and 15th century masters
with answers of artists on the back.
“When did he do all of this?” She asks.
“I thought he was at work.”
She continues shedding layers
of vintage children’s white dresses,
along with a mathematician,
gardener, musician, artist,
gourmet cook, weaver and grandmother,
Piled together in bushel baskets,
loaded with tomatoes, onions,
a bottle of black strap molasses
and sweet Mexican chocolate.
Like elephant Literary Journal on Facebook.
Edited by: Ben Neal
hot on elephant
The 4 Stages of a Good Divorce. A Letter to my Children: You do not come from a Broken Home. These People are Rare Gems—Keep Them, Fight for Them, don’t Give Up on Them. Mom, can I Call her Mom, Too? Jon Stewart makes first appearance since retiring—”it’s not your country.” Waylon shares 10 transformingly beautiful Quotes about Love. My Marriage had to End—for my Life to Begin. 40 Things I’ve Learned in 40 Years. Why your Yoga Goals are (Probably) Irrelevant, if not Downright Dangerous. Dear Woman in the White Car at Margaritas Mexican Grill in West Memphis, Arkansas on July 15th, 2012.