Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Morning flowers

- Mornings are long…

That is what I was about to say, to the girl
who comes to sit in front of me on the train,
poised in her imperial white dress,
mouth like a meaty flower on her small face

-  Mornings are long, dearest, but come evening flowers close all the same.

1 comment:

  1. Really beautiful.

    So much evoked in that meaty flower. Does it close in death? Sleep? Rejection? The poet has given just enough to make me wonder. And in that mystery I want to come back and think about it, feel it again. We all fade ...