Such as to a friend,
who on her empty lawn
had planted a magnolia tree
in tribute to her sister.
Out of all the shop's porcelain
set carefully on glass shelves,
I chose the white magnolia
for her birthday, unaware then
of its importance.

To another, an ornament—
a cardinal pair huddled
on a winter bough—
from her late husband, through me,
whispers fine etched in metal.

Infrequently, even poems
have wafted down from the dead,
their warm words filling my throat,
               eager to leap out  
onto the molten earth.

©Janet Lynn Davis

-First published in The Sidewalk's End, 2006.

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