Geraniums | Elisabeth Giffin Speckman
I close my eyes and smell
Geraniums.
Spot your hand, ringed and
Wrinkling, knuckles creasing stem,
Removing death.
I see the wet
Little globs on leaves:
Glass beads, almost.
Sense the darkening–
Dirt beneath turned
Moistened earth.
I curse the ultraviolet clouds,
Skin crimson, fraying.
Remember you saying once how my
Freckles bursting were a body
Blossoming on cheeks,
A birthing.
I’d like to be reborn to spend
Again a summer with you.
Elisabeth Giffin Speckman received her MFA in Fiction from Butler University. Elisabeth writes in multiple genres. Her plays include Clyt; or, The Bathtub Play (O’Neill Finalist 2023; Henley Rose Finalist) and Catch/Release (Henley Rose Finalist) and have been produced throughout the United States, as well as in Canada, Australia, the United Kingdom, Israel, and Ireland. Her plays are available via Next Stage Press, YouthPLAYS, and the New Play Exchange, among others. Poetry, prose, and photography appears in Midwestern Gothic, Flash Fiction Magazine, CHEAP POP, Three Line Poetry, and Pidgeonholes, among others. More info at egspeckman.com.