Preparing a Bouquet
By Jan Wiezorek
I fully intend to strip each flower
from its sheath, but when the time
comes, it will take all my strength
to pick them, and simply let them
float in a glass of water, watching
their uncertainty puzzle through
my magnifier—all yellow circles
surrounding a crown of spikes—
six white flowers, as stars, aligned
to a stem, balancing green leaves
in points—the largest, a flag of white
and purple, with facial lines as contours
of skin in a crepe of yellow-orange spray
—Monday Morning Club saw it all
on their walk, overcast, but thrilling:
well, there’s a wild onion here,
she says, as another adds—mother
took them, cleaned them up, and sliced
the small bulbs for frying with eggs.
While I cannot yet release this bouquet
in miniature, I bless all flowers
in my life—especially this one,
whose purple-petal cups slip onto
my finger, still not wanting to let go.
Jan Wiezorek writes from Michigan. His work appears, or is forthcoming, in The London Magazine, The Westchester Review, Lucky Jefferson, The Broadkill Review, Loch Raven Review, The Remington Review, Red Ogre Review, Minetta Review, Backchannels Journal, Talon Review, Modern Poetry Review, The Passionfruit Review, Sparks of Calliope, The Wise Owl, Poetry Center San José, and The Orchards Poetry Journal, among other journals. He taught writing at St. Augustine College, Chicago, and wrote the ebook Awesome Art Projects That Spark Super Writing (Scholastic, 2011). He posts at janwiezorek.substack.com.
Artwork Source: “Lotus Flowers,” KJ Hannah Greenburg
Artist Statement: I delight in words and images. Sometime after the Mesozoic Era, I became a Rhetoric Professor, who taught writing courses, speaking courses, all manner of communication courses, and intermittent courses in sociology. I won National Endowment for the Humanities funding as well as National Communication Association distinctions.
Two decades and four kids later, I relocated to “the other side of the world.” There, I dusted off my keyboard, invited back my muse, and began to churn out more smoothies, vegetable soup, and creative works than might be considered proper for a middle-aged mom. To wit, I’ve seen more than four dozen of my books published.
These days, I still party with the imaginary hedgehogs that I met in midlife, write about the foibles of parenting, teach online courses to emerging writers the world over, and deign to use color and shape to express feelings. Exposure to feral ideas remains important to me.
KJ Hannah Greenberg uses her trusty point-and-shoot camera to capture the order of G-d’s universe, and Paint 3D to capture the chaos of her universe. Sometimes, it’s insufficient for her to sate herself by applying verbal whimsy to pastures where gelatinous wildebeests roam or fey hedgehogs play. Hannah’s poetry and art collections are: Word Magpie (Audience Askew, 2024, Forthcoming), Subrogation (Seashell Books, 2023), and One-Handed Pianist (Hekate Publishing, 2021).
The Turning Leaf Journal 