This is the time of year when I anxiously wait for flowers to reappear. Our valley’s famous tulip fields that are now in full bloom, the show-stopping roses by the front door, and the dramatic yet fleeting peonies that outline our garden beds. We also have a hydrangea outside the living room window and I often find myself gazing over it at summer sunsets. In this stunning poem, Tara Bray has reminded me to not overlook this common yet commanding bloom, the “sphere of pillowed sky/one faceless gathering of blue.” Her unique and puncturing descriptions invite the reader to see anew and, potentially, cultivate a deeper awareness of the ordinary wherever it grows. As the poem concludes she confesses, “I’m tethered, and devoted/ to your raw and lonely bloom.” As the spring unfolds and fades into summer, may you find faith in the flowers around you.
“hydrangea,” by Tara Bray
sphere of pillowed sky
one faceless gathering of blue
shyly, I want to sit by you
old globe come home
a blue-soft let near the cheek
dozer, I’m tethered, and devoted
to your raw and lonely bloom
my lavish need to drink
your world of crowded cups to fill.
Tara Bray’s poems have appeared in Shenandoah, Third Coast, Green Mountains Review, Crab Orchard Review, Puerto Del Sol, and elsewhere. Her manuscript Mistaken for Songrecently won the Lexi Rudnitsky Prize and will be published by Persea Books in January 2009.