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THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS
Laurel stands for glory
But I put it in my soup.
There is a photograph
of roses on my desk:
Josephine loved them
more than Napoleon.
When lilacs bloom
I think of Whitman
Kissing homesick boys asleep:
Carnations make me remember
How I hated
High School proms
While violets
Summon Durer, kings and art.
I never saw a black tulip
Though they sold most of
Amsterdam for one.
Narcissus, Hyacinth:
They have stories, too.
Flowers tell us everything.
But for appleblossoms
We'd still be in Paradise
Not here
Wondering
What will bloom on our graves. |
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