Late Bloomers

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Not ones to trust easily,
unsure of undress, slipping
petals below bony hips,
unfurling filament to
expose ovary.

Air entices pollinators,
beckoning callers with heady invite
amongst swarms of
creased and bruised
blooms of yesteryears.

These toe dippers
toss their reluctant grips
letting go with more time and care,
licking dust off fallen anthers
to shine.

Finishing summer in the flourish
of swollen heat and dim pulse,
knowing races are won
in the courage
of the finish.

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12 thoughts on “Late Bloomers

  1. Okay, what is this purple beauty? Don’t think I’ve ever seen one (probably because it’s native to your part of the country and not mine!). Anyway, ’tis a lovely photo with even lovelier words!

    1. Thank you, Debbie. I actually took that picture along my travels east and I don’t know the flower, but I almost put our favorite late bloomer — the crepe myrtle! Yours must be in its full glory.

  2. I just love the way you bring the world in which you live into your poetry. I always get a sense that you see the beauty of the details where others only see landscape.

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