Last year, our wisteria didn’t bloom at all…
We feared we had killed it, or maybe it was something in the soil or air
We couldn’t diagnose or see.
But this Spring, it came back
Not as opulently as before, or so I thought,
Since from the house I only saw a few quivering purple flowers
Draped onto some green, as if put there by Monet
When we weren’t looking.
Today, as more evil news about those gas attacks in Syria trickled in
I felt my stomach churn and gasped for air.
So I stormed out into our blooming yard,
And when I turned around
I found above explosion of purple might
in contrast with a hazy muted light.
Beauty is indestructible sometimes
and if that’s the consolation prize for today
I’ll take it…
Although, in all fairness,
I would have gladly sacrificed that whole bush of wild wisteria
If it could have saved one child in Syria…