The Bouquet
If I gathered wisps
into a ripe spray of scent
I would fall far short
of my memory.
There are many bursts of light
behind my blind eyes
as I wait naked,
haunted sevenfold by pairs
of fragrant blossoms.
This reach of new space
is an eager dancer's leap
into the garden.
May 1, 2010 4:36 PM
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.