Pollen on white

I’m slowly beginning to learn

love is more than fireworks,

blushing pinks and chemical reactions.

It is more than marriage vows,

tea in the morning and collecting

flowers to tuck behind your ear.

It is more than wrinkled hands

in our nineties, gifts of paper and gold.


It stains like pollen on white,

sticks like tree sap or napalm,

and it haunts hallways and rooms

like a long lost relative.

It leaves only on its own terms

even after it has

crumbled to ash and been reborn

as hurt, grief and loss

masquerading as ghosts

from your past, present

and future

to interrupt your sleep

and lullaby thoughts;

to teach you a lesson

of vivid nightmares

and the inability to forget.



Photograph & poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

Available internationally

2 thoughts on “Pollen on white

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