Papery triplicate –
petals, sepals, leaves,
thrice each – blowing
flutters your beauty.
Woodland charm
white crowns
that quell the forest dark,
who would guess
we owe the ants
thanks for your propagation, for
bringing your ovary tunnelling home?
Ant supper, and the seed of you
cast away. You heart is eager to
germinate.
Little wake-robin
you squirm to blossom
as your woodland neighborhood
hibernates.
Oh give me a tiny
bead from a rattle
to leave in the dust.
Could be
the very best part of me
is overlooked
until I’m gone.
White flowers are best
to hold
the evening light.
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