Late Blooming
Last Rose
When your spouse spends their only full day off from work ‘tucking in’ the yard for winter.
They gather up the leaves from the gigantic maple tree and mince them up to mulch the garden.
They tend to the hoses so they won’t freeze.
They settle the boat and camper until next year.
They prune the plants and such, then gather up the fallen stems and branches.
And, if you are as undeservedly blessed as me, they run in with a sprig from the rose bush, trimmed just before the true hard frost last weekend, and topped with a bud that took its time forming this year- well after the other blooms found the sun.
Maybe, like me, you put that barely formed-looking bud in a crystal shot glass from some forgotten thrift shop.
And you look at it over the next few days, and smile because you have a spouse that brings you roses in November, even if they aren’t in bloom.
And- maybe- like me you wake up on the sixth day to what is truly our last blooming rose of the year.
Like me- it’s smiling in the warmth of a sunny kitchen.
Like me- it’s grateful to have been discovered and found to have hidden worth. That it’s never too late no matter when you start to bloom.
Like me- it knows it blooms safely, appreciated, and surrounded by love.
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Here's another brief article about love.
And another poem of mine that you may enjoy, from a time that was very much just me finding my way.
Please click on the wee heart if my writing clicked with you, and drop in a comment to share your thoughts!
You can also find me on Medium.
About the Creator
Judey Kalchik
It's my time to find and use my voice.
Poetry, short stories, memories, and a lot of things I think and wish I'd known a long time ago.
You can also find me on Medium
And please follow me on Threads, too!
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Gossamer
"Murray! Wake up!" He loved that period between waking and dreaming. To him, it was like entering another dimension; more of a dreamscape than dreaming itself. There was an otherness to it that he wanted to grasp and yet deeply respected the fact that it could never be his totally. This is what gossamer was; flighty and light, a wisp of smokiness, an idea suggested but not fully revealed, a slit in cloth, a copse in the wood.
By Rachel Deeming7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (5)
I love this rampage of appreciation for a good spouse. So wonderful. Thanks for sharing this love. I also love the way your format your posts. Learning a little bit day by day with my fellow Vocal+ Family.
You have described your feelings about the surprise blessings in your life so beautifully!. Reading your words makes me very happy for you!
Lovely words Judey
This is so beautifully written and heartwarming. I love the photo of the rose, too.
This is a lovely piece. Sounds like true love.