Today, She Presses Flowers Poem by richard ilnicki

She awoke this morning
bright and glorious
and somehow beautifully curious

in a particular mood,
fact, possibility or command.
I watched her walk into
her imaginative place
parting the cotton sky
with her innocent outstretched toes.
She entered confidently behind
the crying wind
dragging a silk bag of purple
overstuffed with Sunday thoughts.

Today, she will lovingly clip
the beautiful heads of flowers off.
Later, she will carefully press them
between the pages of a book.
This way, she says,
their beauty and imaginative bouquet


The continuation of the poem:

Mary, I wish I could
press you like a flower
between the pages of my heart
where you will live forever.
may live forever.