Milkweed, Late December

a poem by
KELLY DUMAR | Psychotherapist + Poet


Every day I walk in the woods and take pictures to post in my blog. Once my images are assembled in my blog gallery, I spend some moments attuning to any spontaneous thoughts, feelings, ideas that resonate from the photos for my personal life. What is this picture about for me, here and now? Then I draft some fairly spontaneous poetry or prose, post it, and go on to revise extensively later. 
The image of this husk, actually taken in November, just after the election, surprised me as soon as I placed it into my blog – suddenly, I saw the husk wasn’t empty, as I’d originally thought. There was still attached, one seed, holding on to an empty husk on the verge of winter. This sparked the first draft, and, after many revisions, this final poem, Milkweed, Late December

YOU are a seed
one, in particular
I am empty
of milk, a weed
wintering husk
a country, you belonged
August was sun sealed
your pouch, my plenty
November is blown –
you are fastened
to ruin, so what
if you waste your one
your only

Enjoy more of Ms. DuMar’s work at
Photograph: Milkweed Husk, One Seed by Kelly DuMar