Napo 16

Ah, yesterday I got too busy.
Monday, we drove back to Houston from the valley and arrived home around midnight. Then, I had a long day of work ahead--office hours, meetings, class, an oral exam.
By the time I got back home, I needed sleep more than I needed poetry.
So, I'm going to put in two writing sessions today. Here's my bounty from session 1, in which I used this as a prompt:

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/70291/the-image-list

And this was my result:

Night-Blooming Cerise

For Jan Seale

The afternoon descends upon us

Like a tired grackle coming home to roost.

I’m standing in her garden, amazed

At how she can bring color

To this slab of concrete, joy

To the desolate world. It’s spring.

How many springs has she seen

In her time, I wonder. A curious plant

Climbs the brick walls of her home,

Fills the bleak grey with deep green,

The hue of life we all love, the hue

Of photosynthesis that makes the world

Breathable, bearable.

What kind of plant is that? I ask.

Night-blooming cereus, she tells me.

Most days of the year, it’s unremarkable—

A succulent that saves its beauty

In its pocket like a precious coin.

Mockingbirds sing in the distance.

They sing all their lives, especially now,

In spring. Come night, they’ll roost.

Come night, this cereus will open

A single flower, its petals unfolding

like an old woman’s vibrant smile.

She bends to the earth,

Uproots a scion for me to take

In a pot. Just stick it in the soil,

She instructs, and you, too,

Will grow a cactus that blooms

Only for a night, a last hooray of love

To the world before it fades

Into the birdsong of morning.

She grins with more than a smile.

May we all bloom with such beauty

In the evenings of our lives.