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March 19, 2017 · 11:02 pm

Thank You for Your Patience!

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A bear coming out of her den. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

Flora’s Forum has been taking a break since Dec. 21st because, well, I really needed one. I think many will agree that 2016 might have been one of the most trying years (collectively, as a nation) in recent memory. Like many, I was emotionally exhausted. I needed time to heal and regain my strength. I needed time to rethink a few things, time to delve into other projects, time to get some kind of plan of action together for the future.

But now that spring is starting to stir, I’m getting out of hibernation!

I think I’ll be able to offer you a lot of great poetry again, soon. I don’t know for sure; I haven’t communicated with Tricia in a little while, or the other poets, but I think they’re up for it. Are you Tricia? Virginia?

I also hope to offer more prose! And other artwork that fits the Flora’s Forum art-in-nature/inspiration theme!

So, if you’re a writer or artist with work to share, I’d love to see it. Send me an email at maefayne(at)msn.com. As some of you know, I don’t bring in any money from this site, so I, sadly and regrettably, cannot offer payment for publication. (Full disclosure: I did receive $50 in the Tip Jar way back in 2015, and it went toward the $99/year it costs just to keep the site free from ads that I do not approve of. Remember that time that fracking ad appeared out of nowhere?? UGH! I could not let that ever happen again!).

Thanks for sticking around, I love you all!

—Sandra Knauf

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Tagged as 2016 Election, Flora's Forum, Sandra Knauf

November 15, 2016 · 3:13 pm

After the 2016 Election

Image by Sandra Knauf

The Day I Helped Lop Ten Thousand Rosebushes

November 9, 2016

Wind pruning we call it. Taking the garden down
to wrist high so when the winter winds blast
down the gorge, low canes stay rooted,
refuse to topple, stand for the long haul
to first leaves, bud and bloom.

We were a tribe in coveralls and gloves,
pricked with razor thorns and lament.
The day carried November sun despite our gloom.
Our lopper tools were dull
from a summer long of use, needing
sharpening hours of winter downtime.

Yet, we lopped and whacked and whacked
and lopped. Hauled the remains on tarps
to a bucket loader for the dump truck.
One woman sorted through the loads
of fallen thorns and canes for the few tight buds
of orange and red flame mixed with yellow
that survived this late November.

We lopped and whacked and whacked
and lopped, and bent our backs, tired
from too late a TV night. Repetitive motion
to ensure the thorns will grow back
and perhaps allow another rose
to bloom out of this fierce, sad work.

—Tricia Knoll

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Tricia Knoll is an Oregon poet with two books in print – Ocean’s Laughter (Aldrich Press 2016) and Urban Wild (Finishing Line Press 2014). Website: triciaknoll.com