I hold this in my cupped hands,
Stare into its depths.
Red and orange flicker, leap and stab.
Smoky, shifting colors blacken and curl
Its abundant petals.
A long inhale and I go deeper.
Sorrow and rage draw me down.
Early memories trigger and entice,
Rolling, feed my fire and raise my voice.
It keeps me coming back.
Face buried in searing blooms,
I part my lips to bitter and sweet,
Lap up the pungent nectar
That fails to nourish my growing soul.
How do I break my addiction to this bouquet of shadows?
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2018)
Midtown Global Market Prompt: 3 mins on “bouquet of shadows”
Valley of the Trolls 
I really liked this one, Liz! It can be so hard to let go of a past that has hurt us, even though clinging to it (and breathing it in, as you so eloquently describe it) can do us so much damage. There’s a lot of wisdom here.
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Thanks Ann. Never quite sure what comes out, when I do poetry–glad it made sense!
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Oooooo, I like that. Great writing.
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Thanks, Greg. Sometimes a real struggle to let go of the past, especially in these sad political times.
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Oooh, this one was dark. I got the image of an icy queen with a dark bouquet in my head.
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Yeah, Minnesota, dontcha know… 😉
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Excellent poem and a nice take on the prompt, Liz. 🙂
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Thanks, Miriam!
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You’re welcome, Liz!
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Wow. Deep.
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Thanks, Chelsea.
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