Symposium by Laura LeHew


He brings me poison
words tormented love separation
a withered bouquet woven
with absinth wormwood
abandonment boredom regret
starry anemones delicate asphodels prickly
burdock the seeming happy amethyst and canary carnations
screaming antipathy and disdain
an untranslatable orange lily
whispering hatred against a pale vase
vain dream-like clusters of hydrangeas
jealous lemon hyacinths lost
in the sorrow of their vivid violet sisters
. . . . . . .and
a forsaken single blood red tulip—the perfect suitor
nestled among fragrant creamy tuberoses
insinuating dangerous

by Laura LeHew

Laura on Facebook

uttered chaos

Editor’s Note: Spring usually means joy and celebration, but what if instead it brought poison? Torment? The imagery in this poem is lush and vivid and terrible. Sometimes a bouquet can hide a dangerous obsession.

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