Jonquil Evolution

The scent of jonquils
always awakens something
similar to spring:

slightly more, and less,
than the first time I travelled
on Bilbo’s shoulder;

back before the world
became solid, when pixies
still danced in gardens.

My old forty-five
crackles to a close, even
magic dragons sleep.

Multi-lane freeways
bypassed Cherry Lane, culled the
Hundred Acre Wood;

the evolution
and degrees of love
bring thoughts of jonquils.

Ryan Stone


Sketch courtesy of my dear friend, Dajena, over at Moonskittles.

8 thoughts on “Jonquil Evolution

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s