Flowers—A Desert Metaphor


             

             after C.D. Wright


peace lilies laid open

polleny shimmer

of their center—this war


is born by the forgetting

of the smell


it doesn’t matter that white

means peace


how many quiet dead

could the whitest

hands enfold


stems remember when war

had a beginning

and an end


now they are just

always curving

petals


to catch the wind—

someone saying something

is over


in the desert

calla lilies grow


smaller bodies for

smaller bodies


the desert there the

desert here


sand fills all

the delicate mouths

of flowers—


monsoons rip

the gray blanket of sky—

lilies tip their pistils


to water

and weep

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