Bleeding heart…

I found this poem on a piece of scrap paper today while digging through the garbage, and I thought I’d share it with you. I know my master wrote it, but I don’t know why he threw it away. I guess you shouldn’t mention it to him if you see him… uhm, and leave out the part about me getting into the garbage, too, okay? Thanks!

Bleeding Heart (Dicentra spectabilis) Photo: adamaecompton

My bleeding heart

makes scarlet snow in winter

and crimson mud in spring.

 

My bleeding heart

streams sanguine from its center

and neither beats nor sings.

 

My bleeding heart

remembers all last summer

and every drop of fall.

 

My bleeding heart

aches for rest and slumber

and needs familiar walls.

 

My bleeding heart

weeps in silence while it grows

and wasn’t meant to roam.

 

My bleeding heart

seeks soil that it knows

and wants to go back home.