On Down the Hill

5514_mariposalily

Walking on the gully bank when May’s
Tall greening grass surrendered to my pace
Without complaint, I saw a frail bouquet,
Whose snowy petals begged a simple vase.

I clutched it tightly in my hand and went
To show it off to Mother, asking for
A drinking glass, a nose to test the scent,
A mouth to smile, and eyes to help adore.

But soon it fainted on the window sill –
Homesick for its friends on down the hill.

3/18/1984

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