
Showy knot of gathered shame
don’t punish us with your absence
for such a slight as this trowel’s
disturbance
Mischief peeks out from among
your skirts, where your eye hides,
bashful – I see you pretending
to not see me, your pentitent gardener
I give you my slight bow
in return for your precious head,
Olympic daughter, bring
all your glory to the golden bowl,
be the centerpiece
of my patient table,
let your bright bloom
be my heart’s physician
Today’s poem is steeped in the language of flowers – since this was a year ago, I will admit I don’t remember writing it, but I can guess that I did a lot of digging around in obscure references for this one! Thank you for reading.