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.