Your ducks in a row, your fields plowed,
your dishes washed, meals on a plate, geraniums that bloom –
such a sane a nest. So wise a decision.
In such a world, heads and lives blown apart,
sacks of flour and gourds of water a nurturing gold,
your geraniums bloom bloodred and sunburned pink,
so beautiful; silent to envy and longing
the threat that all will be taken away.
In this one life we awaken to, keep your eyes
open. Be gentle with those geraniums, add
a creamy peacewhite bloom, a hopeful peach,
a prayer of water.
