Poetry- Rhododendron by James Croal Jackson



We remain afloat
on the phone
without laughter.

television signals.

There were days when bees
could pollinate petals
without seeming drunken.
Some flowers simply
sing of cabernet.

Pursue the laurels
inherent in your heart.
Forever we say we lived.

James Croal Jackson dips his feet in many artistic waters. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Bitter Oleander, Torrid Literature Journal, and The Birds We Piled Loosely. He was born in northeast Ohio but currently lives in Los Angeles. Find more of his writing at jimjakk.com.

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