Sunday, May 10, 2009

Rose Valentine

Half of life
you follow the stem
it seems so abruptly
bent toward some
sword-like bud

After whose humiliation
the leaves go on alone
recouping piece by piece
all the old furniture
for a new flowering

And on the other half
you notice how just before
it turned into a flower again
it looked back at you like Orpheus
and grinned.

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