Hydrangea Still Life

By. A. Gagliardi

These Hydrangea on my table

sit in pale pink and green clusters;

each four-petal flowerette its own song of compatibility.

They crush together like people crowded

on a rush-hour commuter bus.

Freckles of flower sediment

dust the chocolate table around the vase

like powdered sugar sprinkled on brownies.

The pale pink-to-green ribbon

gathers itself into a knot on one side

of the clear, glass vase

so you could imagine the ribbon holding the

bouquet suspended softly above the table.

Her coffee cup sits waiting

on its folded white napkin

making the scene a still-life.

Now, she returns

with pen and notebook

and sits in thoughtful repose as the

lamp illuminates her face,

completing the picture for the artist.

_{by A. Gagliardi}

The Hydrangea is one

amonst the other flowers

set late on its branches,

changing color as it advances,

stays late into winter

without need of water;

no tending of leaf

nor paper petal;

remaining as if its presence

implies the essence of summer,

or early fall.

That is not all.

For the Hydrangea offers

the reminder that other

summers will come

with fall on the run.