John Steinbeck’s short story, The Chrysanthemums, is one of my favorites and the inspiration for this poem. I’ve linked to the story below, and if you’ve never read it, I hope my poem encourages you to do so. I really hope it doesn’t discourage you! That would be awful!
Eliza’s Fate
She looked forward
to the small pleasures
after all:
ladybugs and
budding flowers,
the songs of
passing birds,
the smell of lilacs
in the spring.
What else was
meant for her
she’d never know,
but perhaps
this was it.
Most days she
thought nothing
of the lacks
in her life.
Most days she just
went through the motions.
Most days she felt
it was enough.
But.
Other days she
privately railed
against the sameness.
Other days she cried
silently in the kitchen.
Other days she felt the
absence of color.
When he rode through,
that stranger, speaking
in a familiar way,
her need clawed raw and
subversive. Embolding.
What if today? Maybe he?
She dared the unthinkable
opened herself to him.
Like chrysanthemums,
of little consequence.
http://thereycenter.org/uploads/3/4/3/2/3432754/the_chysanthemums-steinbeck.pdf
Praying for Eyebrowz 
What a beautiful poem you wrote. I love it. I am pressed for time but if I get a chance I will definitely read the story
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Thank you! And John Steinbeck, may he rest in peace, thanks you as well.
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