Flowers for My Father

The Plumerias continue growing
without my father here to keep them.

The Jasmine are still fragrant
though he’s no longer here to smell them. 

The weeds that I potted
become beautiful flowers because
my father taught me to appreciate a flower,
no matter what we name them. 

“Flowers for My Father,” A poem by J.E.DiPalo
Photos by J.E.DiPalo

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Divided; After the Battle (Work-In-Progress)

After the battle, Corbin and Gabriel stand alone.

“All is still. As if the world has stopped breathing,” I said.

“Peace that follows battle is a futile peace. It is time to count dead and to assess which side stands closer to the win,” Gabriel said, looking amongst the fallen. “There are no winners in a battle. Only those who remain unbroken.”

“Unbroken?” I said. “No one in a battle comes out unbroken. Uninjured, yes.”

Read more in Divided, my novel TBA, Fall of 2017.  Visit jedipalo.com for updates!

Thank you,

J.E. DiPalo