Saturday, February 19, 2011

I woke up this morning arguing with the imaginary person I often argue with who suggests I am dormant, like a winter bulb. Imaginary botanical analogies must be corrected.


There is a difference
between dormancy and death.
A tulip is prepared.
A field of daffodils in snow
knows winter is just that.

I am an orchard of fruit trees
clear-cut in mid July,
the ground heavily salted beneath me.

Not all green things grow back.



  1. A beautiful, devastating description of a profoundly terrible situation. That sense of being left standing but with little prospect of new life, just the stripped-back, bare-branched continuation of the one cut down too soon.

  2. Hi Megan- I just started reading through your blog after finding it through a comment you left on mine- Dear Audrey.

    Would love to connect sometime via email/phone since we have this horrible situation in common.

    Your writing is beautiful and full of truth. Thanks so much for writing it. I'll be checking back often, and...

    I'm so sorry for your loss. So sorry to know you this way.

  3. Julia - you might have my email already, from DSN. I'll check to see if I still have yours. If not, I'll leave mine on your blog.