Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Nasturtiums and memories
There's a poem on frankenstina today, accompanied by a wee photo of some nasturtiums in a glass. I took the photo last week, and the companions of these flowers are still blooming in the garden when everything else is looking very draggled. The poem tells the story of their origin, a packet of seeds in a drawer in my mother's house. I read this poem at her funeral a few months after writing it.