This is a week for personal poetry and images turned into poetry.  Today the pictures are the Jimson Weed growing alongside a busy road near where I live... Where I live today surrounded by bitter-sweet remembering... this toxic flower which people insist on calling a weed... I made the kaleidoscopic images from single flowers knowing full well Georgia O'Keeffe would like them... and remembering the last few months of my Mother's tedious journey into the darkening cave of Alzheimers disease and my Father's death three decades before hers... and especially as tribute to my brilliant niece Lenda as she courageously inches toward the unbearable light,  I made the poem.

DREAMING

The fog of light

dense enough to slice

floods the room from the open door

surrounding the gauze figures

and familiar faces

outlining the frieze of hair

the silhouette of noses and chins

Dreams only

these people are only dreams

so temporary 

they evanesce

while I watch

Synergy of light

pulls everything together

stalls all motion

allows no shadows

Puppet people

with invisible strings of light

pulled from somewhere

I cannot see

Thin lines of light

outline the silhouettes

of the puppet people

Ghosts only

fading from the earth

while I watch in horror as my Mother

trembling on the edge of nothing

is absorbed by brightness

My Father comes and goes

the only movement in the mist

coaxing all of them to follow him

                   Muted colors from the past

frosted red

blue pushing through

the green of long ago springs

hide the true color of earth

The earth is green

The earth is blue

The earth is green-blue

The earth absorbs all light

The earth absorbs all