Wild Flower
Hey you, standing straight across the untend garden,
making every eye, of every mind take your notice.
What is it that you seek to find?
What must go in your mind?
I saw you standing straight again
on a dry, windy night.
The sight of a single bloom in the season of autumn;
a sight I thought was mine to adore.
When I looked up, birds had the branches and wolves reigned the floor.
Every overgrown patch of grass then spoke of misfortune
of the flower and the garden.
I still write about my time in the garden, but the memory is a full year behind.
I never thought I would but I did forget the flower's image.
Hey O wild flower, if my coward doesn't make the trip again,
make the spring bloom tread in the dreary autumn wind.
Make life, and bring me the fruit raised in the bruised untend garden.