The War Flower

My tired feet have given me a th ousand miles
by my grief and pain glady I went.

this Life’s experience, my eyes have unseen
loud death and life’s silence
within this letter i enclose myself a tired soul

And death might be a second away as my friend
your beautiful smile and eyes enclose me
as Spring the flowers are the strongest
yet by the garden of lovely women I have known.

I may enclose and trap my five fingers
in stress and love by petal and petal
as Spring Becomes (caressing mysteriously her first
rose).

Yet I can close my Soul. i and my life can shut
beautifully and suddenly, as when the heart of
this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.

:: 11.13.2023 ::