her existence is in deep cupped hands
sculptured petals shaped into waves
or ripples of hair the color of late summer sunsets
coming across her is a surprise of peace
purple anchoring calm from surrounding riotous color;
you stop, contemplate the solitary figure
not bold, chatty like her smaller red cousins
yet not shy or reticent either
she simply exists, holds her tall ground
she is a cool drink of water, one might say.
walk up to her and, as you pour down into her layers,
her deep ebony eye – flicked with golden pollen –
quietly
laughs at the sky.
