Spring Flower

Flower Ball


A daylight lamp

turns sparingly on

the world she covers.


The seasons warm and cool

in rhythmic paces

so common and reassuring

to the plans of spring.


The roses continue to grow

even where the old steps lead

no where, and where the concrete crumbles.


The peonies are balls of thin seashells

a rounded woman’s belly,

about to become a mother

emerge like bees from honeycomb,

butterflies from the nest

a newborn baby

too heavy to hold their head

the peony blossoms fall to the ground.

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