Reflections in Nature

A Missed Note Here and There

A poem — the Flowers Don’t Mind

Photo by Bruno Soares on Unsplash

I sit on the back porch,
guitar in hand, and watch
the deep orange globe
yawn on the horizon while
strumming Dandelion Wine.
At least I make an attempt to play.

The red poppies I planted
last fall have fully bloomed
and catch my eyes
as they sway in the breeze,
dancing to the music. Flowers
make my heart croon.

I miss a note, and then another.
Thankfully, the flowers don’t notice,
but I do, and it bothers me; I was
raised to focus on my mistakes.
In spite of that, I pluck away, because
that’s what you’re supposed to do.

Sort of like life. I stagger
and stumble along, and could fill
an ocean with regrets and missed
opportunities, yet I keep on
keeping on and try not to let
the bad notes define my song.