but what occurs
within its circle
of flame. The flower
stands, swaying

quietly in the air,
its big eye fixed intently
on the sun. Slowly, a few
yellow dots of pollen appear,

spread, and finally
occlude the pale green pupil
as light burns the yellow
brown and the flower goes blind.

Darkness doesn't cease there.
Late in August, the stalk bends
like a black shower head
to all that is

inevitable,
faces down, neck hard
and dry in sudden
osteoporosis,

a blind lock
that demands all -
mother, father, future
love. For richer, for poorer,

in bloom and black seed,
I come, go, caught in traffic.
Remember the warmth and long days -
summer's affair? I do.