Poetry of Love, Resistance, & Solidarity

The magazine advised drying my bridal bouquet—
tying the stems to a hanger and letting
the sunflower heads dangle.  But to watch
vibrant colors drain like blood
from the face of a dying man?
To intentionally harden each petal into crumble
at the slightest touch?  Instead,
I parked my car across the street from my father’s grave
and dodged 5:00 traffic.  I said nothing and left
my flowers to dry in the hot Kansas sun.

–Melissa Fite Johnson


Comments on: "122. To the Stars Through Difficulty: Melissa Fite Johnson" (1)

  1. I so loved this poem…captured so much in so few lines!

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