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Deadheading Marigolds -- poetry by Molly A. Green

This morning,

I woke up my garden

by beheading its brown-eyed marigolds,

naked, bowed, dried,

with the sharpened arches

of my thumbnails.

Their blood and spittle,

stained my fingertips--

fragrant with hints, hisses of citrus

and the buried dead.

All day from there on,

I felt their ghosts--

gagging, building, biting beneath

my sky blue nails,

like looming clouds.

So I held my hands

under sink water and

supposed it was summer rain.

I let the old and golden

petals of dreams breathe;

they let out sighs that

smelled even stronger.

So I lifted the keratin skies

as if stripping years from a long life,

like a callous God,

but did not cry before--

My fingers seasoned into stems

upon which new flowers bloomed,

whose heads stir, stir, stirred until

eyes blinked open and

twinkled again.

And all my nose met

was fresh air

this morning.


Molly A. Green is an emerging sophomore from Western Pennsylvania who has been published in her school’s literary journal, Pulp, as well as Crêpe & Penn and The Raven Review. In addition, Molly has recently been awarded a semi-finalist spot in the 2019 Lake Effect National High School Poetry Competition. Through her works of poetry, she uplifts truths as a means of creating a more colorful connection with readers. Other than writing, Molly enjoys drawing graphite portraits of people who inspire her.

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