Petals in the Wind

At the Voices of Poetry event on Sunday night, Finn Woolsey read out this affecting poem he wrote, about a childhood friend in difficult circumstances.

 

Dear Rose, 

freshly sprung from seeds, deserving of kindness from the soil and gardener that feeds.

Just beginning to bud, so tender, so frail,

No thorns yet to guard you, no armour or veil.

Before you knew what it meant to bloom, 

Hands meant to cradle instead sealed your doom,

Held you down, stripped your petals away,

Leaving your vibrant hues faded and gray.

On my top bunk, surrounded by our crew of stuffed rabbits and bears,

We played pirates, out sailing the silent storm,

While I told you about the wolf that follows me in the shadow of the moon,

and you told me about the gardener that smothers his lips to yours at noon.

Silently and swiftly, the storks swept down and whisked you away,

while the soil wept and the wolf began to prey.

You were gone, without goodbyes, without a petal for me to treasure and clutch to my chest.

I asked the Northern Pintails in their nest if they had seen traces of you in winds from the west.

They turned away, their wings heavy at rest.

I'm haunted by memories of a faceless girl, 

Dragging me down the rocky shore in a whirl,

Her bare feet on stone, while I trailed behind,

Yellow wellies splashing, our shadows intertwined.

Now I search for her in every face I see,

Hoping she smiles back at me from the sea’s golden shimmers,

as the sun disappears behind the waves, 

and so does she.