Astounded by the wild plenty
of pink and purple splendor
pushing past soil, fragrant
arabesques rise up in intemperate
profusion and obliterate air,
emitting from eerily pursed
lips an enduring elixir I could
not prepare for like the intoxicating
flood of sweetness that some-
times comes from an aging grief,
slowly overwhelming the heart
and senses, leaving behind
the last earthly vestiges of some
unbidden grace or absolution.
