after rain



I’ve tried to count

your petals but lose

track each time

around and recall

that numbers never

touched my senses

with clarity of cold

or warmth or taste or

touch or sight or

scent or sound and

after rain this late

summer morning


I note that tall

and elegant you’re

not much of an

accountant either

and for you too

life is celebrated

sometimes by each of

these but in the main

by radically returning

your searching face to

life-raising energy

in sunlight