This one was published in Alaska Women Speak‘s 2015 Fall Issue: Fireweed theme.
Girl with corn silk curls twirls
in the meringue sundress into
a field of fireweed.
Her hands slap the magenta petals
like a propeller, spinning the fluffy
cotton until she collapses,
but does not stop,
making fire angels in the weeds.
This poem was published in 13Chairs first issue. Check out this poem and more at 13chairs. Free eBook issue.
The Fireweed Dies
a slow death in the dwindling Alaskan sun
surrounded by its closest family of weeds.
As the daylight shortens
and the August rain comes
the fireweed, once admired for its magenta beauty,
its petals that set the roadside aglow,
fades, growing white with age.
Its fragile cotton sways in the wind
until the rains come and its days are labored
as life draws to a close.
In its last breath, the final puff leaves its lips
and takes flight with a gust of wind,
before falling to the earth and decay,
leaving its skeletal stalks to survive
the fall solstice only to be buried in the winter snow.