Look-the first flower you find lovely today,
That one is mine for you.
Be happy. What can I say?
If I were there, I would bring it to you.
Fay
Fay, but for you, would the eloquent flare of hibiscus
I saw midafternoon
Fall to the grass have mattered less?
If not your caring, what was it inside broke open?
A blossom of such arrogant pain, paper
Curved in flame, red
Of a shame so pure
It sang itself innocent. What could you have said?
Or I, to a thrust of anther falling? It fell
This afternoon. This
Is midnight. Were I to tell
What shines inside, it would be loss and blessing.