You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Poppy’ tag.
There was a time when you mattered
The last bloom
On the Rose of Sharon
In which your spirit did not survive
As the sky
Or a petal from a poppy
Or a child of God
Did you really believe that?
That there was a time when it mattered
The way beauty fell away to reveal something more beautiful and terrible but toxic
Because it was yours
The lost blossom
She came into my life the year your father left.
They breathed the same air in my world for 3 months.
For 3 years since he died I’ve been waiting on profound insights.
For 18 days since she died I’ve been waiting on profound insights.
Now I get it.
There aren’t any.
The **** giveth and the **** taketh away
But *** is a little bitch
Who takes all the Poppies away.
Thread 1: Lucy saved me Tuesday and Wednesday from coming home to an empty window where Poppy used to sit, faithfully waiting for me (Picture 1). Yesterday, there was only an empty window and a slit in the curtains that Poppy would poke her head through (Picture 2).
Thread 2: The other day I was looking through Poppy pictures and came across a few I’d taken as a joke: I’d put my glasses on her and a book in front of her. Silly but cute. See Picture 3.
Thread together: As I came down the stairs this morning, the slit in the curtains was open to reveal my glasses looking out of the window (Picture 4). I had lost them in one place or another and have no idea how they got there, but it meant something to me. A small sign perhaps that my Poppy is still watching and waiting for me—as diligent and faithful as ever.
she came on a Sunday
left on a Wednesday
it wasn’t like it was a special day
she liked leaves
and maybe be leaving too
come to think of it
when it’s time to go
let ‘er go
ears against the wind
flipped inside out
the way they should be
Postscript, if there is such a thing: My beloved beagle, Poppy, has been missing since last Wednesday. She had been playing and running, a delightful sight for a seven-year-old nap-centric dog who’d had cancer (twice!) on one of her legs and an affinity for eating foods deemed “The Most Fatal Foods For Dogs.” The wind in her ears, mouth stretched into a smile, she ran toward me before psyching me out and turning the other way. She trotted off and that was the last I’ve seen of her.
Things my dogs have eaten:
My pristine Blackberry 8530. My Emmie chewed right through the ALT button and I had to buy me a whole new phone because a broken ALT button means you can’t properly punctuate texts and emails. (Did you know that new 8530s are $500??)
My Blackberry phone charger
My replacement Blackberry phone charger
My peanut butter crackers
Raisins (this is toxic to dogs but of course, it didn’t affect my Poppy at all but I have the vet bill to show for my lack of attention)
The once-white grout in between my tile flooring
My G.I. Jane dvd
At least 8 pairs of shoes (seriously)
At least 2 tubes of Neosporin (not toxic but beware of the doggie gas toxicity you will experience)
Entire ketchup packets
Bread that was supposed to be all mine
At least 6 book covers (good sources of fiber, apparently)
At least the edges of 4 other books’ pages
More rugs and towels than I can count
Each other’s poop (grisly discovery)
Worms (specifically earth worms, not parasitic ones)
A dead bird (almost)
My newly-bought used digital camera (telling are the teeth marks on the lenses)
My USB drives with all manner of writing on them (okay, they didn’t actually eat them but that was a close call)
My daddy’s hand
My neighbor’s respect
My car floorboards
All of their toys
Their dog bowls
My purple sweater
My blue sweather
My pea green sweater
My Clinique cranberry lipstick. R.I.P.
The contents of my bathroom trashcan
The dogs have also eaten away the anger I feel with they happiness they bring…especially when they are asleep.
My oldest daughter, Poppy, doesn’t qualify for health insurance.
Website says, We’re sorry. My daughter’s age and/or pre-existing condition(s) disqualify her for true coverage but as a soft sendoff, I could purchase an “accident only” plan, which would not cover hospitalization or the setting of bones or the stitching of wounds. It would “cover” a lady bug bite.
This is a true story.
Yesterday, after hours of lying on the couch, my eyes spied upon an empty Priority Mail box and I challenged myself to see the poetry in the lines of the box. Lines have a point and all that. I couldn’t be bothered in the end but I have no doubt there is meaning in that box and if I try, I can find it.
Sanitary phone wipes are just like cosmetic surgery. It covers the surface but that’s hidden underneath and within will screw you over every time.
So. My Poppy. She has completely duped me. She’s mastered the art of getting into things. Her ability to jump three feet on my bed is impressive as I discovered last week. Some of my pill bottles that are on my nightstand (only way to get to it is via my bed) were on my floor. I said, “that silly Poppy.” Later that night, I went a’lookin’ for my foam earplugs. They are always in the same place, in a little nook on the nightstand and they weren’t there. I searched the carpet, the bed, the table, the bathroom and then I searched my dogs eyes. Guilty! I remembered one of my foam earplugs had mysteriously gone missing at my parents’ house in October. I’ve got a foam earplug-lovin’ fool as a dog.