National Poetry Month, days 8 and 9

I didn't write a poem on Friday. Missing that one day made it soooo much harder to get myself to sit down and write today!

Sepals

I don't consider myself a southerner
The "legend" of the flower leaves me cold
Yet every spring I watch with eager joy
For the white flowers of dogwood trees

Day 9

I'm safer here than in my home
Unassailed in mind and heart
A crowd of people, each unknown

And now with nowhere left to roam
Nothing more for me to start
I'm safer here than in my home

With every mind a fertile loam
For seeds of books and art
A crowd of people, each unknown

The doors become a metronome
Patrons enter and depart
I'm safer here than in my home

Among the bookshelf catacomb
All together yet apart
A crowd of people, each unknown

Voices blend into a hum
There is no wisdom to impart
I'm safer here than in my home
A crowd of people, each unknown