Heavy rains have toppled
the peonies.
Supplicants on their knees,
only a stake
will elevate them again to
resurrect in
tomorrow’s brilliant sun.
But what good
is a shoulder for those
who acknowledge
their season has passed?
Casting perfume
to dawn’s wind, the notice
of an extravagant
youth already spent has
been widely
broadcast to the backyard.
Attending to
the remains, pallbearers
have begun to
congregate – bees and
ants honoring
Spring’s first casualties.


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