Blossoming Gums

fluid things can be unpredictable
I was once a child in a rip
I was fully clothed at the bottom of a pool
I was ankle deep, knee deep
I was swallowing, became swallowed
I woke up like a dream
pockets full of sand, water in the hands

I slip right through

I was a child once

now I know the seasons
I can feel it changing
I can feel it coming
historical, predictable

a blossoming gum
a home
a house for what is left
a reminder
these gums blossom red
I was a red blossom once
I held a space for all the grieving
I bled an ocean for you
Mother says
I will bleed another before we are done
on my kitchen bench,
picked flowers
of a blossoming gum
I try, I wanna feel nice
want to smile in the mornings again
plumbs are back in season
I buy a kilo in celebration
they all rot sitting in the sun
.see car crashes .drowning .catch my breath .in the break of focus

C l e a n   up  the plumbs,   I replace the water for the    blossoming gums

clean my teeth
brush my hair
wash my face
I picture myself standing straight,
,go over the grounding exercises in my head
,do some breathing exercises for good measure
,try some stimming between the waves

one day,
all of this will be   underwater
I hope I   ebb with the flows
I hope I   go when you go
I want to be there when It happens
when all the grieving ends
such a great weight, this loss

I watch the blossoming gum,   slowly drop   its flowers
every.  last.   one.

,but something for the soil to eat

I don’t know if I should be happy
from dust we came to dust we return?
something miss interpreted probably..

lost in translation between..
who we were, we are, we will be

we, are a fluid thing
I’ve never been able to predict where I’m going

all that I’m sure of, is everything I see will one day, no longer blossom

to know grief is to know depth,
some of us carry oceans around with us
grieving all that is behind us..
time.   is a fluid thing,
fluid things can be unpredictable,
there’s still hope yet,

still gums left to blossom

still plumbs coming next season

you don’t have to rot in the sun if you don’t want to

you can



© Andrew Cox, 2023.